


An Ancient Grudge

by Bethann, Minniemoggie



Series: Legendary Friendship [44]
Category: Lord - Fandom, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Teenage Legolas Greenleaf, Tol Eressëa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-13 21:12:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16026077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bethann/pseuds/Bethann, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minniemoggie/pseuds/Minniemoggie
Summary: Someone holding an ancient grudge against Oropher finds his way into Legolas' home.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of our older stories that I have debated about posting here or not. It kind of leads to a slightly dark story line that takes place in Tol Eressea that I wasn't sure I wanted to include here. I decided to do so just to see if there was any interest as there is a few more stories that go with this one. 
> 
> I know it's confusing, but sometimes our A/U changes just because we change our mind about a character or event. Since we write for our own entertainment, we feel it's fine to write whatever we're feeling at the moment, even if it's different from what we've written before or what we might write in the future. This means that one story might give you one account of a certain time period and another might say something else. You can think of this story line as one that might have happened, or if it's too sad or too dark, you can pretend it never happened. That's what I do!
> 
> For this story to make sense, you will need to read our series notes and maybe a story or two before this one. Also these are seldom in chronological order, but if anyone is interested I will post the next few stories in this sub-series in succession. Please let me know in the comments if you want the rest of this particular tale. Beth

Even deep in the woods far inland as far away as he could go he could still smell the salt from the sea on the wind. It seemed to Dagnir that it was just another thing to blame the Sindar for. Had they not come to his woods, brought their foreign ways and their militaristic manner to the Greenwood, he and his family would still be able to live their lives in peace and harmony. But others in his settlement had welcomed Oropher and his followers to the woods, and had been seduced by their fair words into accepting Oropher as their king. Silvan ruled by Sindar.

Dagnir had refused to bend the knee and had taken his family deeper into the woods spurning their words of warning of a new darkness emerging from the south. What did they know of the woods, they who had lived in Menegroth and then in Lindon?

He had thought they would be safe but he had been wrong, and his youngest son had been swallowed by that darkness, so Dagnir, and what was left of his family fled into the West to await the rebirth of their child. Those ages of waiting had cost him his wife and his other children as well for they had chosen to travel on and live with his wife’s family leaving him alone, something else to blame on the House of Oropher. 

The woods here were beautiful but were not the same as those he had been born in and he still awaited his child’s return and with it he hoped his wife and other children. Isolation had just added to his hatred of the family who he blamed for all his misfortunes but now, now …

Word had come five years ago that one of Oropher’s ‘get’ had come to Tol Eressëa and with a dwarf! Dagnir had sneered at the news! It was just the sort of attention seeking thing that the Sindar indulged in. 

He expected the worst, but for some time there was little more information from the Valley of the Elms, only gossip that a great house was being built; a house fit for a king. It had not surprised Dagnir that such a display of extravagance and excessiveness had taken place. It was what he had always feared would happen, even though he had never seen Amon Lanc itself, he had heard of its splendour and had come to his own conclusions as to what it would look like. It seemed that the grandson was as full of his own self-importance as Oropher was said to have been. Still, as long as Thranduilion remained in his valley and confined himself to building his houses Dagnir did not care what foolishness he indulged in.

He, Dagnir, the acknowledged elder of a group of several settlements deep in the hills of Tol Eressëa, would have nothing to do with the Sindar prince and he would do his best to see his people did not have anything to do with him either. He would continue to lead the Silvan folk who had settled in the woods and to act as their voice at the councils in Avallónë or beyond. He was well respected, his voice listened to and his opinions valued. He would not have his position usurped by the mewling grandson of Oropher of Doriath!

But then as the seasons turned, Dagnir had seen some of the families in the settlements move away from his woods. They gave various reasons, slipping away quietly and choosing not to say where they were headed. It was not until he learned that many had relocated to the Valley of the Elms where Thranduilion now lived that Dagnir had realised how insidious this young elf was turning out to be! And his old resentment turned to active hatred and that hatred led him to look for a way to gain revenge.

And then just when he despaired of finding some way of showing the Sindar upstart what he thought of him, Dagnir was offered an opportunity even he could not have dreamt about.

Elrond of New Imladris, a Noldor halfbreed who was worse than the Sindar princeling wrote to him asking if he would, offer his expertise and knowledge to Oropher’s spawn.  
Had he been alone Dagnir would have laughed aloud! Surely the Valar must be listening to his prayers, for Elrond Eärendilion was asking his help in supporting the grandson of Oropher in his dealings with the councils in Avallónë and Valinor.

The half-elf had written to him of the prince’s youth and inexperience. He had spoken of Dagnir’s knowledge and expertise, and his loyalty to the crown of Greenwood the Great, and how he was sure he would wish to offer his support to the princeling so that he could find his feet and not make too many gaffes in the hidebound world of Valinor’s halls of power. How amusing that was!

Dagnir could not have wished for a better opportunity Here was one of the most revered elf lords asking him to guide and direct the descendant of a lord he had hated from the first and whose actions had led to the death of his son. Here finally was his chance to gain revenge, to pay back his losses, to show up the house of Oropher for what it was, and he could do it all while appearing on the surface to be lending his considerable assistance to the one he wished to destroy.

It would mean him leaving his woods but it would be worth it. All he had to do was insert himself into the household of the Sindar lordling, and then begin to destroy him from the inside revenge would indeed be sweet.

XXX


	2. Legolas pov

“I blame myself”

I look over to where Ressor is standing.

“How can you possibly think you are to blame? I am the one who made a complete mess of things” I start only to be stopped by Lord Elrond’s voice cutting across our words.

 

“I was the one who suggested you take up this mantle, if is anyone’s fault it is mine.”

“Elves!”

We all turn towards the open windows where Gimli is sitting puffing on his pipe and he raises an eyebrow at us.

“Would you care to elucidate a little further my friend?” Elrond chuckles, “We are indeed elves but I think you meant rather more by your word than to remind us who we are.”

“Aye I did that. You are making too much of it as usual. It was a simple error and can easily be put right. Right?” 

I see the doubtful glances between Elrond and Erestor even as they nod and reassure him that they are sure that the problems will be ironed out swiftly enough.

I am not so sanguine. I know that my mistake at the council in Avallónë is going to be difficult to overcome. I may well have cost a group of elves their future home, and that guilt hangs heavily on me, as it should.

Gimli crosses the floor to put a comforting hand on my arm.

“Here now Lamb, stop looking so worried. Do we not have some of the finest minds in Middle Earth here including mine? We can sort this out”

“But we are not in Middle Earth,” I mumble “and I should have remembered that, though   
even there I was forever getting things wrong. I should never have accepted the offer to represent my father’s folk.”

“Nonsense” Erestor gives me one of his severest looks, “You made a mistake that is all, and it can be remedied.”

“Of course it can,” Elrond, informs me, “no one expects perfection, Legolas. You have to learn and to adapt as you go along, something you have always been good at doing and we will help you. Indeed I have something in mind that might offer you the support you will need during negotiations when we cannot be with you.”

For the first time since the debacle that was the last negotiating session, I feel a sense of relief that something is going to be done to help me.

“What … how?” Not the best response but the only one I can manage just now

“Lord Amerion recommended I write to one of the elders called Dagnir, who has acted as the spokesperson for the Silvan elves who travelled here from Arda for many years. He is a skilled negotiator apparently and knows the customs and mores of Tol Eressëa well. He also knows many of the elves you will come up against in your deliberations. What do you think? Should I write and ask him if he would be willing to offer his services?”

I do not need to think for very long before answering.

“Oh yes, if you would Lord Elrond, I would be most grateful. I am willing to place myself entirely in his hands; I know I have much to learn.”

Elrond smiles at my enthusiasm and announces he will send a letter this very day but Gimli looks more doubtful, so I ask if something is wrong.

“Nay Lad if you are happy with the arrangement I have nothing to say against it, but I still think you could wrap these pernickety elders round your little finger if ye set your mind to it.”

I laugh as he no doubt wishes me to do so, but unlike Gimli I do not doubt that I will benefit from the services of Master Dagnir if he chooses to come and help me.


	3. Gimli's pov

  
“Legolas, sit down child, you’re giving me the jitters!”

He stops in his pacing for a moment and turns to face me.

“I’m sorry Gimli. I am a trifle anxious I suppose.”

I snort at that bit of elvish understatement.

“Oh? I couldn’t tell by the path you’ve worn in the floor.”

Legolas attempts to smile at my jest out of politeness, but I can see he isn’t finding anything amusing about our conversation for he is far too worked up about the guest who is due to arrive tomorrow.

One month ago we received word from Lord Elrond that Master Dagnir, a respected leader of a group of Silvan elves who traveled to the undying lands long ago had kindly agreed to spend a season or so educating my elf as to the ins and outs of the politics and customs of Tol Eressëa. The letter had been full of sage advice from the revered Lord of New Imladris, reminding Legolas of what a special opportunity this was and that he would do well to listen carefully to Master Dagnir’s instructions and advice.

 _“Having been afforded this rare chance to be educated by such a renowned and highly esteemed elder I know you will make the most of it and place yourself fully in his hands. Such an extraordinary gift does not come along every day and it would be a tragedy for it to be wasted. I know I can count on you not to let those of us who believe in your capabilities down._ ” He wrote. And on and on, saying in three pages what could have been said in one, just like an elf.

A waste of good parchment and ink if you ask me, though it wouldn’t have done to say so.

Do not get me wrong. I have deep respect for Lord Elrond and am greatly in his debt for all he has done from my elfling and myself, but the Lad could have done without the additional pressure of hearing he must not fail or he would risk losing Elrond’s good opinion. Truth be told, I am not so crazy about the fact that Legolas was expected to go before the council in Avallónë to begin with, without so much as a briefing from someone who knew how things must be done. How is he supposed to know the customary way of doing things without some sort of guidance? Anyone else in the same situation would have blundered as he did, but not everyone would have felt it as keenly or agonized over it as much. Only my elf. The child puts enough pressure on himself to be perfect without anyone else adding to his load.

I have done my level best to protect him from such things and to see that he is given ample chance to enjoy the pleasures common to others of a similar age, for it eats at me that he has sacrificed a good portion of his youth to service to others. And in many ways he has been able to relax here and experiment with the activities and mischief common to young elves, and that will continue to be the case as long as I have breath and something to say about it. And yet there are responsibilities that someone in his position must take on, no matter that he is not quite ready for them in my eyes. I know it is vital that he learn how to handle negotiations and deal with prickly council members and their overly fussy customs and Master Dagnir comes highly recommended. So even though I did not entirely agree with the idea, I could see that Legolas was anxious to have the help so I held my peace. If he wished to study with Master Dagnir in spite of his dislike for all things scholarly in nature, how could I say him nay?

But now I wonder if I should have followed my first inclination and vetoed the whole idea, for the Lad looks frankly terrified and on the verge of a severe anxiety attack. No amount of reassurance has seemed to help.

“He is an honored elder, Elvellon, and he is going to great pains to help me,” Legolas informs me when I suggest that the famous Master Dagnir is not one of the Valar themselves come to take up residence in our guest rooms.

“He puts his trousers on one leg at a time like the rest of us, Laddie, there is no reason to get yourself in such a state.”

“I am not in a ‘state’,” he declares, but disproves those words immediately by going back to pacing and worrying over what Master Dagnir would think of his quarters. “Do you think they will meet his requirements, Gimli?”

“He said he needed a study that was far enough from the noise of the house that he could work with you without being disturbed. We have his rooms on the far side of the East wing of the house. The two of you won’t be able to hear even Aerlinn if she finds another mouse drowned in the leftover plum sauce.”

He laughs, recalling the event, but soon is back to fretting. “Perhaps I should go check one more time to make sure everything is in place…”

He starts for the door, but I put up a hand to stop him.

“Legolas! ,Enough is enough,” I tell him. “You’ve checked the area a dozen times today already. Sit with me.”

Giving the door one last longing look, he gives up and sits beside my chair, leaning his head against my knee. I feel him relax as I run a hand over his hair as per our usual custom and very soon he begins to give voice to his real concerns.

“What if I make a mess of this too, Gimli?” he asks me

“Then we’ll figure out how to solve it, Lamb. You have good intentions and that counts for a lot. It’s only when you cease to care that you need to worry. All you can do is try your best. No one expects perfection.”

“Master Dagnir might.”

Suddenly the idea of facing a whole season of Legolas driving himself mad trying to prove a point to some stuffy elf lord seems like a very bad idea to me.

“You know we can just call the whole thing off, Lad. I can send someone out tonight to inform Master Dagnir that his services are not needed after all.”

The look I receive for that idea can best be described as appalled.

“I couldn’t do that! Not after my grievous errors and after all the trouble Lord Elrond went to to help me.”

“Errors, child, not unforgivable sins! We all make them, even the great healer himself. I understand how you feel, but you are going to have to calm down considerably or I’ll be forced to make a decision you might not agree with. I can’t allow you to live in a constant state of distress like this, and the good teacher hasn’t even arrived yet!”

“You would really call things off against Lord Elrond’s advice?”

“Indeed I would, if I thought it was for the best, so take my advice, Lamb and relax. Master Dagnir is coming to help you out, not to judge you. You’re not in an unbreakable contract with the elf, you can change your mind if it doesn’t work out. And if I think you’re worrying yourself sick over it, I’ll have something to say about it.”

“Why am I not surprised?” he grumbles, but leans into the hand that continues to stroke his hair. I smile at this for I can see my words have restored some of his equilibrium. I can only hope this will last into tomorrow when we will meet the great and mysterious spokesman of the Silvan elves who may or may not turn the world upside down. I can only hope for the best. 


	4. Legolas pov

I know that Gimli thinks I am overreacting and in truth I admit I am. But there is so much at stake here. I am, like it or not, the only member of the House of Oropher who is presently in the furthermost west. Well my daeradar may be here but his hroa resides still within Mandos Halls while my own beloved Adar remains on Arda. The elves that have come here either in the ships from The Havens or have been released from Lord Namo’s care look to the family who were their lords back in Greenwood the Great to give them support in their endeavors and needs and who am I to deny them that support?

Well do I know I have not done right by them so far! To begin with, of course, I was too concerned with surviving recovery from the sea longing, to pay my peoples’ needs much notice, then there was the house building and the beginnings of a land that would be fit for my king should he ever cross the seas.

But even then I was aware that elves were arriving in the valley and settling in the forests and in the valley itself. Elves who had once lived and worked in Greenwood, elves who were expecting to be under the protection of one of their hereditary lords who looked to that lord to represent them in the councils of the good and the great.

I cringe at the results of my first representation. How could I have been so foolish? Long years I labored under the rule of my tutors as they sought to teach me diplomacy and negotiation and still I failed to take into account the differences in technique and conventions I would find here. I was like a Mumak in a swamp, wallowing and trampling over their beloved traditions.

My face still flames as I recall the looks on the faces of the elder counselors …

And, as ever, my youth worked against me. Even though I have ruled my own colony in Ithilien it meant nothing to the burghers of Avallónë. I knew almost from the moment I stepped into the council room that I was being judged and found wanting. I do not often lose my temper, but their attitudes towards me made me angry and of course when I am angry I do not listen or think clearly so that I made things worse rather than better.

Gimli has sought to reassure me that things can easily be put right, and I am grateful for his support as always. But I know that what is needed here is for me to learn and learn quickly how to deal with these new challenges and to do that I need someone who has a good knowledge of how things work here on Tol Eressëa and I so wish to make a better impression when I am called to the Council again.

 

Yesterday was bad, today is worse; I can hardly keep still; I am driving the members of my small household to distraction and if I am not careful even Gimli will lose his temper with me. He growls at me from the other side of the room and I subside into a chair only to leap up again so as not to crease my formal robe which I have chosen to wear to greet Master Dagnir.

Gimli rolled his eyes when he saw me and asked if I did not think it would be a good thing if I were to wear my circlet. I was just about to hurry off and find it when I realized he was teasing me.

Still as I stand on the front steps of our home and watch the solitary horseman approaching I wonder if it would have been better to have played safe and worn the damn thing.

 

I can see that Dagnir is a typical Silvan elf, brown hair; slim but with the build of someone who is at home in the woods. On his back is a bow, and he carries only a small pack. He is obviously accustomed to traveling light. I want to hurry forward as he dismounts but Gimli holds me back shaking his head slightly.

“Let him come to you, Lamb”

Master Dagnir bows before us one hand over his heart as he gives the traditional words of greeting. I respond automatically and then introduce Gimli to his notice.

“I have heard much of you Lord Gimli.”

The words are polite enough but for the briefest of moments I feel uncomfortable as if what is being said and what is being thought are not the same things at all. But then Dagnir is smiling at me and telling me how gratified he is that he can be of assistance to me in my duties and I am responding and ushering him into the house and introducing him to Forodren and Glasiel then I guide him up the main staircase to his bed chamber with Gimli following on behind us.

As we walk I see Dagnir looking at the house and the way it is furnished and I point out some of the innovations that Gimli has added to improve our comfort.

“I prefer a flet in the woods myself; the simple life has always been good enough for the Silvan folk.”

I share a look with Gimli and find myself trying to justify our home by saying how harsh the winters have been since we arrived.

Dagnir nods but I can see he is unimpressed and Gimli is looking increasingly like a thundercloud.

“My Lady” he growls, “that is the Lady Galadriel of the Golden Wood, also likes flet and telain Master Dagnir, but she has pronounced the house here to be one of her favourite places to visit on Tol Eressëa.”

“Has she indeed? But of course as the daughter of Finarfin she is of the Noldor not Silvan stock.”

I am relieved we have arrived at the quarters we have assigned Dagnir, so that Gimli has no chance to respond to what he will see as an insult to his white lady.

“Here are your chambers Master Dagnir. You asked for peace and quiet so we have placed you here in the East wing. Beside your bedchamber and a sitting room we have also set up an adjoining room as a study where we can work together. I trust it meets with your satisfaction.”

Dagnir looks around at the pleasant rooms and says that ‘they will do’. I am relieved but also somewhat irritated by the scant lack of praise. I follow him into the study and this time he is more enthusiastic.

“This should give us the privacy we will need.” He looks beyond me at Gimli, “it will be important that we are not interrupted during our sessions. I trust that will be the case else I cannot guarantee that the prince will not disgrace his people a second time.”

“Here now!”

“Nay Master Dagnir is correct Gimli,” I step in before Gimli can say more, “I am prepared to work as hard as is necessary to ensure that does not happen. I will do anything to prevent that. We will leave you to settle in Master Dagnir. You will join us for dinner?”

“I would prefer to dine alone if you would not object” he answers and I have little more to do than to say I will arrange it and to agree to meet him after first meal tomorrow to begin my training before bowing myself out.

  
The evening meal is somewhat strained. I know Gimli is worried about me, and not very happy with Master Dagnir’s attitude. I try to explain that it is merely because he is accustomed to living a quiet life that he is as he is. But Gimli responds to this by pointing out that if he has been acting as a representative to his people for as long as Elrond told us he must be used to ‘rubbing shoulders’ with all kinds of folk and not all of them lived on platforms in trees either he adds grumpily.

“You are unimpressed by him,” I try to make him smile but Gimli is not going to be diverted by this sad attempt.

“Lad there is no need to go through with this if you do not wish to.”

“I know it, but I wish to try mellon-nin, please.”

He kisses my forehead at this and says “Well then I hope he can help you and if he can I for one will be very grateful, Lamb.”

“Thank you my very best of friends. I am sure things will be better once we get started and come to know each other better.”

++(the next morning)++

 

I close the door of my bedchamber behind me and rest my shoulders against it. This has been a long day, a day that has left me feeling entirely unable to continue as my father’s representative at the Council in Avallónë.

I knew I had not done well at the last meeting. Indeed my errors were grievous ones but I had allowed myself to be persuaded by Gimli, Erestor, and Lord Elrond that I could soon put things to rights.

I know better now

Master Dagnir asked me this morning if I wished him to be honest with me. I said yes, and he has been, brutally so!  
.   
But I asked for honesty and he has given it to me so I can hardly complain about it now merely because I did not like what was being said.

  
Dagnir had me go over what had happened at the last meeting, repeating my mistakes and blunders; it was a salutary experience for he stopped me every few moments to point out where I went wrong.

I seem to have spent the day listening to a litany of my many failings. Not just my inability to negotiate successfully, but my failure to read disapproval and disgust in the other council members, which I apparently I should immediately have noticed. They were unimpressed it seems by my age and my general ignorance of their traditions and customs but worst of all is my mixed parentage.

I had not thought it would matter, but Dagnir tells me it will and that there is considerable prejudice against the Sindar amongst the council. I find this surprising for I have not felt any such bigotry, yet Dagnir should know more about this than I do so I have to take his words seriously, although it crosses my mind why it is that I was asked to represent these elves if that is the case. I must ask Dagnir that question tomorrow for now I am exhausted.

So here I stand at the end of a very discouraging day; my confidence at an all-time low. But I must not allow it to show to Gimli or any of my household, because should I do so Gimli will likely insist on showing Dagnir the door, and while I would be happy to see the elf gone, I do need his help.

 

xxxxxx


	5. Gimli's pov

“There is no reason to look so shocked, Lamb. I am not suggesting you ask Master Dagnir to leave, merely that ye take a day off from your study sessions.” I light my pipe and lean back in my chair as Legolas springs up from where he was sitting in the chair next to mine and falls to his knees before me. Immediately he begins to petition me to change my mind.

His very alarmed response to this suggestion and his nearly panicked determination to change my opinion on this does nothing to ease my concerns that things are not going as well as he has been trying to convince me they have.

I never cared much for that arrogant Silvan leader from the start, but Legolas was so convinced that he needed his help and expertise that I have held my tongue for the most part.

Since that first day, I have rarely seen the elf, who chooses to keep himself cloistered in his chambers from dawn to first dark with my elfling and then by himself at night. Never have I come across as unsociable a person as Master Dagnir, but Legolas has assured me many times that his help is essential if he was to ever make heads or tails of the complicated traditions of Tol Eressëa. He has even taken to spending his evenings poring over books and parchments in preparation for his days spent with Master Dagnir.

When I objected to this as being too much, he swore to me that it was only temporary and that very soon things would return to normal, but it has now been already twenty one days straight of non stop studying and I say it is enough and too much.

If the high and mighty elves on the counsel are so nit picky that they cannot accept that not everyone has lived here for thousands of years, then I guess they’ll just have to be offended.

The Valar themselves must have approved of my elf or they would never have created this land and placed it in his care to begin with. Besides that, Lord Elrond suggested he take up the mantle of leadership and is he not aware of the Lad’s youth and lack of experience? Such a fuss over a few errors seems ridiculous and counterproductive in my opinion and this evening my elfling looks so defeated that I feel I must step in and take some control over the situation.

Legolas tells me that I am unable to understand the seriousness of his mistakes before the council not being an elf. He feels he must follow Master Dagnir’s advice to the letter or risk shaming his father and his people, but I am quite sure the great King of the woods would never be ashamed of a son who cared so much and worked so hard to get things right, even if an occasional mistake was made.

Even as stuffy and long winded as Lord Elrond is, I am positive he would not want Legolas to be so miserable as he seems to be just now, for under all his pomp and bluster, he does care for the child.   
  
Legolas tells me he is not unhappy with things, but I know better than to fall for that false bright smile and forced light conversation meant to throw me off the trail. I can see through such tactics easily enough, but I have let the farce continue because I know how much this means to the lad.

But no longer. There have too many things happening that have me concerned and that need to be further investigated. For one thing I do not like how the child is at the beck and call of Master Dagnir as if whatever he says must be obeyed without question, such as his insistence on punctuality.

A person would have thought the sky was about to fall when Legolas slept a bit late one day and thought he might arrive a few minutes later than was expected. Not to mention the fact that I have caught him in the wee hours of the morning on more than one occasion still studying whatever topic Master Dagnir deemed appropriate for the moment. I put a quick stop to that of course, but I could tell it cost him to abide by my instructions to put it away and go to sleep. Then this morning when I attempted to cross over through the dressing room that adjoins our chambers, I found myself locked out, something that has never happened before. He only laughed nervously at my concern and explained that he was dressing, but since when is he suddenly shy about such things with me? He never has been before, but when I pointed this out, he only said he had to hurry off and couldn’t we talk about it later?

Well later is now and I can see that my suggestion that he take tomorrow off is not going over well at all. At this point though, I feel I have reasoned and cajoled as much as I can and now I have to insist on things changing. So perhaps ‘suggestion’ is not the correct term. I realize I need to make this clear as he gives me a litany of excuses as to why this is not possible.

“I am having enough trouble getting things right as it is Gimli, without taking time away and giving myself time to forget what little I have learned already and Master Dagnir says he would rather work without letup so he can return sooner to his own home. He is doing me a service after all so it would not be right of me to try to begin making unreasonable demands.”

He hardly stops long enough to take a breath in his desperate attempt to get me to see his side of things, but I have given too much leeway against my better judgment already.

“It is hardly unreasonable to take one day off, Lad, and you need not make any demands at all if you do not wish to. I will be happy to go talk to Master Dagnir myself if you will not.”

“NO, Elvellon, you must not.” His eyes grow wide at the idea of it.

“Why ever not?” I demand, knowing what the answer is even before he starts to stumble around for the words to explain himself. “He does not approve of the fact that you’ve been looking to a dwarf as a guardian does he?”

“He just doesn’t understand, Gimli.” He pleads with me to understand.   
“He does not need to understand, for our business is not up for his approval or disapproval. All he needs to understand right now is that tomorrow you will be taking the day off from your studies and that’s that. Either you can inform him yourself, or I will tell him. It’s your choice.”

“But Gimli…”

“No buts, Laddie. The only part of this that is optional is which one of us will be letting him know. What will it be?”

He sighs and lowers his eyes, whispering, “I will tell him.”

“Good Lad,” I say pulling him close to kiss the top of his head. “You may go to him first thing in the morning to explain, but then you will come straight back here. We have some things we need to discuss tomorrow. For now you had best call it a night, for I know you didn’t sleep well last night.”

He only nods, obviously not wishing to discuss the fact that I had to wake him up out of a nightmare last night. He had clung to me desperately at first but then claimed not to remember what the dream was about. He has suffered from dark dreams at times ever since I’ve known him, but since our first year on Tol Eressëa they had mostly vanished except if he is unusually stressed over something. This only adds to my concern and my need to figure out what is going on. But tomorrow is soon enough for he looks sorely in need of rest. I get up from my chair, pulling him with me and notice that he rises a bit stiffly and looks a little uncomfortable.

“Is anything wrong, Lamb?” I ask worried again.

“Just too much sitting still,” he assures me and while I am not so sure that is an entirely truthful answer I let it go for now. I will however be getting some kind of answer tomorrow. Things will be changing after today if I have anything to say about it.

 


	6. Legolas pov

  
I know my friend is concerned over me and I would like to confide in him but I cannot, I dare not. These last weeks have taken on a nightmare quality and I am the one to blame for that, as Master Dagnir reminds me at every opportunity.

I entered into this agreement with my eyes open, eager to learn, something that would have surprised the tutors of my youth, and hopeful that I would soon master the intricacies of negotiation and diplomacy which it seems are so needed here.   
Long years at my father’s court, in Minas Tirith and in Imladris had not in any way prepared me for what was required.

Only the innate good manners of the other members of the council, it appears, prevented them from refusing to sit with me so many mistakes did I make and so many backs did I put up. I have wracked my brain to recall what it was that I did that was so wrong and so deeply offensive but I cannot remember clearly and have had to rely on what Dagnir has told me.

When I first began my sessions with Dagnir I found it hard to accept his words of disparagement but he made it plain that if I was to improve I first had to come to terms with my failures. I am not perfect, far from it, though I did try, truly I did, but not hard enough it seemed.

Dagnir soon began to lose patience with my constant questioning as he put it and my lack of respect for his position. I was stunned by this accusation, for I had tried very hard to be polite and accommodating to his wishes, yet he saw my actions as those of someone who used the disparity in our ranks to gain advantage.

All of this because I had said I was concerned that because of the schedule he was insisting on, I felt guilty at not helping with the harvest and would it not be possible to take some time out to do so.

Dagnir’s nostrils flared as if I had asked for something outrageous. He too had, had to leave his folk to carry out the harvest without him, he informed me, and not only that, but he had not considered it to be a sacrifice he and his folk would not make if it would help ‘our’ people in the future. Was I not prepared to do the same?

Before I could answer he continued saying that if I was not of a like mind, then he was happy to bring our time together to an end and return to his home. He disliked being away from his forest and forced to stay in what he pronounced to be a Noldor and Naugrim inspired pile of stone, but he had been prepared to put up with all the inconveniences and unpleasantness for my sake and the sake of the Silvan elves on the Lonely Isle.

His words made me feel guilty, but there was also anger for his disparagement of my home! He did not allow me much of an opportunity to respond, brushing aside my objections to this accusation, telling me I had obviously spent too many years living amongst the lesser mortal races, which appeared to have made me ignorant or uncaring of the needs of my own kind.

“The Silvan folk who placed their faith in you are already at a disadvantage because of your earlier errors” he snapped, when I told him that was not the case and that I did care.

His words stung for that was something I could not deny.

“And it appears you are not even prepared to make the effort to put things right now. Is it so much to ask that you sacrifice a few hours of your time for their benefit?”

I would have answered but he continued unheeding.

“So be it, Lord Legolas. I will leave tomorrow, though my heart breaks at your desertion of those who were supposed to be in your care.”

“I do not intend to desert my people.” I cried seeing he was seriously thinking of leaving and knowing that without his input I would be sure to fail. “I want to do all I can for them believe me, saes. I am prepared to work hard! I will do anything you consider necessary! please Master Dagnir reconsider your departure tell me how can I prove to you I am in earnest.”

It took considerable persuasion on my part to get Master Dagnir to continue my lessons and to achieve it I had to make promises and concessions over the future conduct of the work before Dagnir agreed to remain with me.

I was forced to agree that for the sake of parity he would deal with me as he would any other student who came to him for tutoring. That seemed fair enough and I was hopeful that it would allow him to feel I respected his authority; it certainly seemed to please him when I agreed to his demands.

I even concurred with his suggestion that it might be wise to begin again with my studies working from the very basics upwards and putting in far more effort and time than I had previously done. Although in my heart I could not see how I could try harder than I already had been, and I knew that by accepting this ruling it would mean I would see even less of Gimli and not be available to help with the running of Car Annûn at a time when all help was needed. Still I consoled myself that the immediate sacrifice would lead to long term benefits for all of my father’s people here on the island and would therefore be worth it.

To begin with my concessions appeared to have been worthwhile. I tried very hard to show both respect of Dagnir’s authority and to prove that I was serious in my commitment to improve.

I accorded him as much respect as I would my own father or Lord Elrond. I stood when he entered, bit my lip to prevent myself from questioning his views and worked long hours at night to prepare for the next day’s sessions.

But despite this it was not many days before things turned sour. Whatever I tried was deemed unsatisfactory or deliberately offensive or designed to belittle the way of life chosen by the Silvan elves I was supposed to represent.

Things came to a head when Dagnir took exception to a comment I made about his prejudice towards Gimli which had become quite marked. Dagnir’s face turned white, as if I were in the wrong rather than him and when I attempted to get him to see reason, he struck me across the back of the head.

I was stunned for never had anyone lifted a hand to me in such a fashion. Any who had a right to discipline me had done so in a way that left me in no doubt as to their disapproval, of course, but had never had it been delivered in such a casually violent manner.

When I demanded to know by what right he had struck me, he defended his actions by saying it was for my own good that he had brought my rude and argumentative attitude to an abrupt end by doing as he had. He reminded me with what I can only describe as a leer that I had agreed that he may use any method he chose to ensure I learned what was needful.

“You need to learn and accept that the authority of your elders is never challenged here on Tol Eressëa Lord Legolas. If you cannot accept that simple fact I do not see how you will ever learn to fit in with our rules and traditions and moreover how you could act as a proper advocate for the Silvan folk.”

He threw up his hands and to my shame I flinched thinking he intended to strike me again but he merely said. “I have done my best to help you, I even wrote to the council begging that they gave you another opportunity to show your quality and they have been kind enough to say that under my tuition they were hopeful you would make the transition into an adequate voice for your people.”

The parchment he waved at me had many signatures on it, although I could not read them, but it was sufficient evidence to prove to me that it was not just Dagnir who found my attitude unacceptable. It was a bitter blow for I had harbored hopes that maybe Dagnir had some sort of vendetta against me personally but that was obviously not the case. I hung my head as he continued, “And this is how you repay my efforts? Is it any wonder I lost my temper with you when you strike out at me to cover up your own inadequacies.”

“It was you that struck me” I couldn’t help pointing out, “my father would have had you strung up for such an outrage.”

“Would he Lord Legolas? Or would he be thinking how it was that his heir was incapable of learning even the simplest of strategies to help his so called people? Or even of keeping his word to those who are doing their best to help him? You gave me your word that you would accept my authority here and yet now you seek to place the blame for your failings on the shoulders of those here to help and advise. If you wish me to leave I will do so. I will not stay where I am not needed.”

Once again I found myself placed in the wrong, and with evidence of my failings stacking up against me. It was then that I realized that if I was to prove myself worthy of my station and of my family, I had no choice but to accept Dagnir’s authoritarian stance as far as my studies were concerned.

Every perceived failure, lack of respect, or concentration is now met by physical retribution; I am bruised, cut, sore, and battered. Were it not for the fact that all of the physical damage that has been inflicted upon me is hidden by my clothing I know that Gimli would have been asking questions by now which would only make matters worse. I do not want Gimli to know of my failures. I can imagine how he would try and hide his dismay and offer me his support, but he would be secretly embarrassed. Then there is Lord Elrond and Ressor both of whom have put their faith in my abilities and me. Do I go to them and say I am incapable of dealing with a little much needed discipline?

I already feel degraded and humiliated and yet my greatest fear is that others will come to know of the lengths Dagnir has had to go to, to try and educate me in what should come naturally to someone like me.

So, I must attempt to hide my increasing discomfort with what is occurring from Gimli’s notice. I will have to try even harder so that Dagnir does not have an opportunity to resort to physical chastisement and after the next Council meeting I will be able to send Dagnir on his way. It is only another few weeks after all.  
Of course before then I have to broach the subject of taking a day out of my studies with him. I do not care to think how he will react.   
  
I am up well before dawn. I have slept poorly, and I am anxious to speak with Dagnir before Gimli wakes and insists on coming with me. I know the older elf spends much time at night outdoors and then collects food from the kitchens before retiring to his rooms again.

Mistress Glasiel at least is not intimidated by him. After the first few days she made it plain that if he insisted on eating his meals in his chambers he would need to collect them himself.

“We have enough to do here without catering for your whims, Master Dagnir. Food will be left for you in the kitchen. Bring back your dirty pots if you wish to see another meal.”

Gimli told me she had informed him, “gave him a proper tongue lashing lamb. She didn’t hold with such presumption, she said, when she spoke to me about it. I told her she had my full backing in whatever she chose and she went away triumphant.”

I wonder now if that was the day that Dagnir took his frustration and temper out on me for the first time, not that I would ever mention it to Gimli even if it were.

I knock on the door to Dagnir’s chambers and am bidden enter. I feel remarkably hesitant to do so, but since there is little choice I step into the room that we use for our work and offer Dagnir a polite ‘good morning’.

Politeness however does little to divert his temper when I ask for permission to take a day out of study. Even the promise to work twice as hard tomorrow fails to appease him.

I knew how it would be and yet I find myself shocked by his vitriol. I try to explain that I have other responsibilities and that I owe it to Gimli to spend time helping him and this just seems to make matters worse.

“We have far too much to do to prepare for the council” Dagnir insists, ‘no doubt the dwarf is incapable of understanding the subtleties that such negotiations take and you have agreed to place yourself under my authority while I remain here. We will begin with working on the speech I have written for you.”

“Master Dagnir, you do not understand …” I step away hurriedly as he advances on me, his hand raised. We are both stopped in our tracks as the door swings open and Gimli stands on the threshold.

 

He seems to take in the whole scenario without need of words then he advances into the room with a determined step.

“I thought I said you were to come straight back Lamb.”

“I was just explaining to Master Dagnir …”

“We have far too much work to do to allow for days off … You do not understand how …” Dagnir puts in

Gimli turns his full attention towards him, “Nay it is you that doesn’t seem to understand Master elf. Lord Legolas does not need to seek your assent. He is taking the day out to spend time with me, and to get some fresh air and color in his cheeks. He is as pale as milk and it is my responsibility to see he is well cared for. I promised his father, King Thranduil, that I would do so.”

I can see that Dagnir is about to make some comment again but Gimli does not allow him time to speak. He steps forward again and this time it is Dagnir who retreats.

“I have been worried about the lad” Gimli tells him, “you know yourself that being trapped indoors is bad for your health, aye very bad or it can be” he adds and I hear the threat in the steady voice even if Dagnir does not. “And I am certain you want what is best for he who is your lord do you not?”

Dagnir is flustered and I think more than a little discomfited by my dwarf’s appearance and his determination.   
“You do want what is best for my lad do you not?” Gimli stands with one hand on the axe that is in his bel.t I am surprised to see it there for it is not often that we feel the need to go armed within the house. Dagnir has obviously seen it as well for his eyes widen.

“Oh indeed Lord Gimli. As you say a day outdoors might indeed be good for Lord Legolas. And we are all working towards the same thing after all.”

“I certainly hope we are” Gimli growls, “Come lamb, I told Glasiel to pack us up some food. We can go and see how the harvest is coming on.” He turns back to Dagnir, “I would invite you, Master Dagnir, but I am sure ye have much you need to do here, working as you are to help Lord Legolas to help his folk.”

And on these words we depart and if I fear what might be the outcome of this day of freedom I decide I will enjoy it.


	7. Gimli's pov

As we walk down the stairway together, I can see that Legolas is very worried over what has just occurred between Master Dagnir and myself, for clearly the tutor does not approve of our relationship or like the fact that the lad must follow my word over his. He was polite enough about it once I made it plain that I meant business, but it was too late to cover for the angry look on his face and the impatient words I overheard him using with my elfling.

Legolas may not appreciate my interference, but I will not have him so ill spoken to in his own home and Master Dagnir has no right whatsoever to talk to him in such a fashion. I would just as soon send him packing and good riddance, but Legolas seems to feel that his help is vital if he is to make an impression at the next council meeting.

Well we shall see about that. One thing is for sure and for certain, that sort of treatment will stop today, no matter what Master Dagnir or even Legolas has to say about it. It is unseemly and will no longer be tolerated in this house. Aye things will be changing today, especially after what I just overheard… To think that Dagnir thinks he has the right to rule every moment of my elf’s time!

Such presumption!

He will be left in little doubt about how things will be from now on when next I have the opportunity to speak with him and if he does not like it I will be more than happy to show him the door.

For now I intend to focus on having a pleasant day with my elfling and see if I can’t remove some of the concerned look from his face. It is not good for him to live under such constant pressure and at least for today, I hope I can relieve him of some of it.

It is a perfect autumn day. Warm and blustery with golden elm leaves and crimson maples swirling about and standing out in start contrast with the brilliant cloudless sky. Everyone is working hard on the harvest, but they are cheerful too to be out in the sunshine and gathering stores for the winter. It has been a prosperous year as far as the gardens go and it is nice to know we are set up nicely no matter how difficult the winter gets this year.

All are pleased to see Legolas of course, for he is well loved and deservedly so, for while he may be very young and impulsive at times, the folks of our household know he cares for them deeply and will do whatever he can to make working for us and living here a pleasant experience.

There is no task that needs to be done that he is not willing to fully participate in as if he were a hired servant instead of a prince and Lord of this land. With only our small household we need all possible hands to work and I know they appreciate the fact that their young lord does not mind and in fact seems very much to enjoy getting his hands dirty right along with them. At first some of them were shocked at such actions, but they know us well enough now that no one is surprised.

I am extremely gratified to see Gaearon and Aerlinn drop what they are doing, to greet him and take him around showing all that has been accomplished in his absence. For a time he joins in with the work and I can almost see the anxiety of the last little while slipping away as he relishes the fresh air and physical labor. Instead of returning to the house for the noon meal, we make our way to the top of our favorite hill and spread a blanket over the fallen leaves that crunch beneath us as we sit down next to it.

“That’s more the thing, Lad! You look much better already. A day in the sun was just the ticket!” I tell him as I rifle through the pack of food that Mistress Glasiel has sent for us.

“It was a lovely day indeed. Thank you Elvellon. Tomorrow I should be able to return to my studies with more energy and vigor.” His genuine smile takes on a forced look at the thought of what tomorrow will bring, something that makes my earlier concerns return.

I reach out to pat his knee. “You do not have to go back, Lamb. I will gladly go tell Master Dagnir that his services are no longer needed and you need not see him again.”

He looks hopeful for a moment, but instead of agreeing he closes his eyes briefly and shakes his head.   
“I must carry on, Gimli. There are people who are relying on me and I still have much to learn.”

I do not bother to comment, though I wonder how much more can there possibly be to learn. He is already working day and night as it is. Can there really be so much more to politics and diplomacy here on the island than there was back in Middle Earth? I am beginning to wonder if that pompous Dagnir is intentionally trying to make things harder than they are just to feel superior to one who is his lord in spite of being perhaps thousands of years younger. I certainly did not like his condescending and almost irate tone when he was speaking to Legolas this morning as if he were a spoiled child demanding special favors instead of a concerned and hard working leader of his people.

The truth is I do not trust him, and though I know there will be objections in plenty, I do not intend to leave my elfling alone with him again. I will inform Legolas in the morning to spare myself arguing about it with him tonight, but I have made up my mind. Until Dagnir is gone, I will stick to my elf like glue.

As I expected this decree is met with countless arguments and pleas to reconsider, but I can ignore such things quite comfortably by now. No amount of begging or cajoling will change my mind, for the lad has been placed under my protection and I now have reason to believe that Master Dagnir may not have his best interests at heart.

“Master Dagnir will not like it!” he informs me, looking all but ready to panic.

“Well like it or not, that’s how it will be, Lad. If you wish to continue your work with him it will be under my direct supervision or not at all and I won’t hear any arguments about it from either of you. You are my charge and my only concern and I am not convinced he means you well.”

Legolas opens his mouth to argue, but a warning finger in his face causes him to close it again. He knows better than to cross me when my mind is made up and by the expression on his face I can see he has just recalled this fact and decided not to push it.

I am less than impressed with Dagnir’s welcome of me when we arrive to his apartments.

Addressing Legolas, he hisses, “ I thought I made it clear that you are to come alone!”

Legolas bites his lip nervously and turns to me for support, which I do not hesitate to give, for seeing the child’s obvious worry over having to explain his actions rubs me the wrong way and makes me more than a little hot under the collar. Still I control my voice and speak evenly, looking Dagnir directly in the eye.

“Well Master Elf, from now on that will not be the case. If Lord Legolas is here, I am here as well. Surely there is nothing you would say to him that you would not want me to hear is there?”  
  
“Of course not,” he says curtly, offering me a thin smile.

“Then by all means carry on,” I say, taking a seat on the far side of the room where I will be out of the way but have a full view of everything that takes place.

The morning goes well enough, though Dagnir offers so many corrections and suggestions to the speech he proclaims must be recited to the letter that it is beginning to drive me to distraction. At one point he gets a bit frustrated at Legolas’ incorrect pronunciation of a word , though I cannot tell the difference between Dagnir’s way of saying it and Legolas’. Dagnir seems to think there is a great difference though, for he raises his voice irritably, though when I clear my throat and frown in his direction, he takes a deep breath and moderates his tone.

The calm does not last long, however, for before long Dagnir is once again having trouble controlling his frustration at the lad’s perceived errors. Instead of stepping in this time, I decide to see how far he will go. If he is willing to talk in such a way with me in the room, I cannot imagine how he would be and indeed how he has been when I am not around. His manner of speech is shocking and I am about to collect my elfling and tell Master Dagnir what he can do with his ‘helpful advice’, when he finally loses control and explodes.

“Can you never get this right?” Dagnir roars. “How simple does it have to be for you to comprehend?” He takes a step toward Legolas, waving his hands wildly and I am stunned when the lad actually flinches and brings an arm up to cover his head as if he expects to be struck. Glancing my way, as if wondering if I have noticed this, Dagnir clears his throat, steps back, and once again lowers his tone.

“Shall we try again, Lord Legolas?”

But by now I am on my feet. With all my heart I long to put a fist in this sneering elf’s face, but I know I cannot risk falsely accusing him of something I am not positive about. Instead I address him as calmly as I can manage under the circumstances.

“No Master Dagnir, there has been quite enough trying for now!” I say before turning my attention to my elf. “Come, Lad. I wish to speak to you alone.”

Dagnir pales a little at this request and Legolas almost seems to be blinking back tears. They speak at the same time.

“Of course, Lord Gimli.”

“I’m sorry Elvellon.”

Sorry for what I do not know, but I do not wait for an explanation. Taking him by the arm I lead him out into the corridor and all the way down the stairs and back to the west wing and our own sitting room. Waiting until I have closed the door behind me, I turn to my charge before asking the question I am afraid to know the answer to.

“What was that about Lamb?”

“I am truly sorry, Gimli,” he repeats, “I am honestly trying, but I just can’t seem to get the hang of this. I do not know what is wrong with me that I can’t seem to understand no matter how much time I spend or how well I think I know things. Never in my life have I found something this difficult to comprehend. I must just not be suited to represent my people with the council if I cannot get even the most basic of tenets, but I swear to you Elvellon it is not for lack of trying.”

I listen in amazement to this explanation. Does he truly think I have brought him out of Dagnir’s presence to discuss his failings with him?

“Laddie, I do not give a damn if you understand a lot of ridiculous elvish claptrap meant to impress a bunch of hoity-toity, know it all council members! Have I not said I’d be happy to escort that patronizing, pain in the neck of a so called “tutor” off our property for good? This whole exercise is pointless and unnecessary as far as I am concerned. What I was asking was why did you recoil back from Dagnir when he came close to you?”

I can see that my question surprises him, though all he can think of to say is “Oh.”

“Did you think he might become angry enough to actually strike you?”

He only shrugs and looks away, which I very much fear is an answer to my question. I feel the bile rise in my throat, as I say in a voice that sounds dangerous even to my own ears. “Has he done so already?”

The silence that meets this inquiry makes my stomach twist in a knot. I can see he would like to deny it, but he will not lie to me so directly. Instead of answering he merely replies lightly, “Master Dagnir is very strict.”

“Aye I could see that, but that does not answer my question, Lamb.”

“I had to agree to his using whatever methods he might use with anyone under his tutelage,” he explains, looking at the floor. “ Physical chastisement is not unheard of between a student and teacher, Gimli.”

I feel my face grow hot with rage at the implications of this!

“If he has raised a hand to you, I swear I’ll…” I cut off my words when I realize my elf is looking completely mortified. Obviously he has tolerated this treatment because on some level he felt there was no other choice, but having me know of it is too humiliating to bear. I feel sick myself that I did not suspect such a thing even after hearing Dagnir’s cross words this morning and worse yet that Legolas clearly thinks it is his own doing that he is in this predicament. It is then I think to wonder exactly how out of hand this situation has gotten without my knowledge. Forcing myself to speak calmly I ask him.

“Has he harmed you in any way? Answer me, Laddie, for I will find out one way or another, if I have to choke the answer out of that son of an orc myself.”

He swallows hard and I can see he is trembling but he only says, “He is a harsher in his methods than most instructors I have worked with.”

“He has no authority or right to be harsh with you or to lay so much as a finger on you, something he will very thoroughly understand when I am finished with him!”

“Gimli please, you must not get involved,” he pleads, “I promised Lord Elrond to place myself entirely in his hands.”

“Not get involved? Who do ye think you’re speaking to Elfling? Of course I’m involved in anything that has to do with your well being! And had I known the methods he was employing I would never have agreed to this in the first place and furthermore I do not think Lord Elrond would have agreed either! In fact I know he would not!”

Legolas looks as if he has some doubts about this and says, “Perhaps not, but I owe it to my people to…”

“Nonsense, Lad, your people adore you and would be horrified to think you’d been used in such a way. Now if you are hurt in anyway I need to know about it. Show me.”

When he hesitates, I give his arm a little shake to gain his full attention. “Now please Lamb, or will I have to strip you myself?”

He knows I will do so if I must, so instead of arguing further he flushes deeply and reluctantly begins to unfasten his tunic with trembling hands. Laying it aside he goes to work on his shirt and allows it to slip partway off his shoulders. Even from the front I can see he is bruised about the ribs, but when I turn him around and help him the rest of the way out of the shirt I am completely horror-struck and shocked. His shoulders and back are crisscrossed with weal marks in different stages of the healing process. Some are crusted with dry blood and one or two look angry and still seeping. On his lower back is a deep bruise where he has been either thrown against something or struck with a blunt object and I can tell that the marks do not stop at what I can see but continue down the rest of his body. How has he been able to hide this from me? Dagnir had good reason it seems for wanting to be out of earshot and for keeping the Lad out of my sight for significant parts of the day. I am blind with rage!

“Sweet Valar, Child, this is not the work of a strict tutor, but of a brutal criminal! I could happily separate his head from his scrawny shoulders for this outrage!”

I turn toward my own chambers to retrieve the axe that hangs on the wall there. No doubt having my axe in his face will help move Master Dagnir quickly on his way and discourage any thought of coming back. Legolas grabs for me and I turn back to face him again.

“Gimli please, you must not! It will only make matters worse.”

“Do not worry, Lamb, I will leave him with his life. I just intend to make certain he fully understands my position is all!”

“I will come with you!” he says quickly replacing his clothing. Perhaps he thinks he can assuage my temper on the walk over, but I will not give Dagnir the satisfaction of seeing the level of upset he has caused Legolas.

He looks so distraught that I want to take him in my arms, but am afraid of further damaging his poor battered frame. I settle for squeezing his hand instead.

“Listen to me, Lamb. There is more going on here than meets the eye, though what it is I cannot yet tell, but trust me when I say this is not your fault in any way whatsoever. That elf is a sick and twisted individual and something needs must be done about him. Now you just wait here while I go take care of things. I will send Mistress Elanor or Mistress Glasiel to tend to you-don’t look so dismayed, Lad, both ellith are the epitome of discretion-and when I return we will take a ride out to see Lord Elrond. He needs to know what is going on, and I wish him to check you out personally to make sure you have no broken bones or serious damage. I shall be back in no time at all.”

With that I place the axe in my belt and head back over to he east wing to confront the insidious lowlife elf who has very stupidly dared to mess with my lad. Before I can get to him, though, I meet Master Forodren in the main hall that connects the two wings of the house.

“He is gone, Lord Gimli. Master Dagnir took his horse and rode out of here like hungry wolves were snapping at his heels. He took his personal belongings, but I found these in his chambers.”

He hands me the thick volumes Dagnir had been using as instruction books to teach his so called lessons.

“He certainly left in a hurry,” Forodren says, “I wonder if something happened. He seems an odd sort.”

“Well, I cannot say I am sorry to see him gone,” I say, “ but I very much wish I had made it in time to see him off properly.”

“Perhaps next time,” Forodren says. “ I am sure he will understand.”

“Oh if there is a next time, you can count on it. I will make very, very sure he understands!”

 

XXXX  



	8. Legolas pov

I very much wished to follow Gimli when he stalked off towards the rooms that Dagnir had been using but my beloved guardian has made it plain that I am to do as I am bid and to stay away from the east wing until he has spoken with my erstwhile tutor.   
It is not that I fear that Gimli will overreact; Gimli may have a reputation for being hot tempered, but in reality he is the most careful of individuals. He only ever reacts to what he considers unfairness over those he cares for, and I am, despite my many failings one of those to whom Gimli has given his love. He will threaten, terrify, and intimidate but he would never take action against an unarmed opponent.

As for Dagnir, well I cannot guess how he would react but I would wager my twin knives that in a stand up confrontation with Gimli son of Gloin he would come out the loser, still  
I cannot help but be concerned for my friend and guardian …

I do not have to worry for very long, however, for scarcely have I reached my chambers when Gimli rejoins me.

“The rascal has gone,” he tells me as he enters, looking thoroughly disgruntled at his quarry having flown. “Run like a rat before a cat and well that he did, I would not like to be held responsible for my actions had I come across the scoundrel. After what he did to you I would have happily put my axe to his neck.”

“Gimli … I …”

A dwarven finger is waved under my nose, “do not say it Lamb, you are not to blame for this situation. You have tried to accommodate his demands, but I doubt not that even one of the Valar would have found living up to his standards difficult.   
For now all you have to concentrate on is getting those injuries seen to. Forodren has gone to the kitchens to summon Mistress Glasiel and Mistress Elanor, and you may put off that face, Lamb. You are going nowhere till your hurts have been properly dealt with. And mark me well, you will allow their ministrations without complaint. ”

I am sufficiently cowed as to accept this dictate without making any objection, I may prefer to have any care provided by my dwarven guardian but given the situation I am happy to accept any stipulations Gimli may set for me and I meekly allow him to herd me towards my bedchamber and I shed my outer clothing without complaint.

As I do so, Gimli hisses as he takes in the bruising and cuts that adorn my torso and arms.

I can tell he is frustrated by the fact that Dagnir has fled his attempts of justice. Perhaps I should feel sorry for that but I am so relieved he is no longer here that I do not wish to even think too much of him.  
I know that in the long term I will be called to account, and that I may wish that I had tried harder to take in all that Dagnir was attempting to teach but for now I am so happy that he is gone that the fussing and care of my staff is something I relish rather than resent.

Despite being relieved Dagnir has gone, I am worried that in his absence I will be unable to learn sufficient to hold my own at the upcoming council, but that is for the future I tell myself and try to put it from my mind. Mistress Glasiel and Mistress Elanor have arrived in answer to Forodren’s call and fuss over me like mother hen’s with one chick. I know I should feel embarrassed by their ministrations but instead I find it quite comforting, I am stripped of my smallclothes but they give me some semblance of modesty by covering my hips with a sheet.

I let Glasiel and Elanor move me where they will as they tend to my hurts and listen to their conversation as they work. If Dagnir was concerned by Gimli’s anger he would likely be terrified by their words.

I found it impossible to hide the full truth from them when they bustled into my rooms carrying bowls of steaming water and healing supplies. Indeed once they had seen the extent of the bruising and weal’s on my back it would have taken rather more than my pathetic attempts at dissembling to have persuaded them that this was not inflicted deliberately.

“And to think I have been feeding him!” Glasiel grumbles, “I wish now I had done as Aerlinn suggested and put something in his tea. Oh she meant in an attempt to sweeten his disposition,” she hurries to explain as I look up, “I would sooner have put something less pleasant in myself. I thought him a sourpuss but I never suspected this,”  
She sniffs and has to stop and wipe her eyes before she returns to her tasks.

“Aye, just let me set my eyes on him again,” Elanor joins in, “I’ll give him a taste of his own medicine you can be sure of that. Now Lord Legolas if you would just lift your arm a trifle I will bandage up these hurts. Good lad.” She adds as I do as I am bid. Mistress Elanor has ever treated me as if I were one of her offspring rather than her lord and I like that informality as does Gimli, “How could anyone deal in such a fashion with such a sweet one as you,” she brushes my hair back from my brow. “Tis a travesty that’s what it is. You will be dealing with him Lord Gimli?”

There is no question of doubt in her voice as she states this and she merely nods approvingly as Gimli growls “You may be certain he will know the full extent of a dwarf’s fury Mistress Elanor.”

“Gimli” I attempt to expostulate but he is having none of my attempts to take the blame and I soon subside into silence and let the ellith finish their tasks. But when I attempt to sit up at the end of their work and announce that I am to ride to New Imladris to see Lord Elrond with Gimli the looks I receive from my care givers gives me pause.

“You will be going nowhere until you have had a good rest.” Glasiel announces. I look past her at Gimli but he shakes his head at me.

“Nay lamb if Mistress Glasiel thinks you should rest I will not gainsay her.”

I am about to argue when he adds, “there is time enough to travel there later when you have had a good sleep. I will sit with you until then. I promise I won’t go anywhere without you.”

As ever Gimli sees more than I realize and he knows I am anxious that he will not tell what I consider to be the whole story to Lord Elrond. I carry some part of the blame even if everyone else thinks otherwise, I give him a smile and settle myself under the covers as Glasiel and Elanor depart still talking of what they will do to Dagnir when they see him next and Gimli chuckles as he moves a chair closer to the bed after pulling the curtains to keep out the sun.

“Sleep lad, you need it for you have not slept properly in days I am sure.”

With Gimli standing watch I soon slip onto the path of dreams and find proper rest.

I wake to the soft sounds of conversation. Turning my head I see that the chair Gimli was seated in is now empty. I can hear his voice, however, and I recognise the other two as well, Elrond and Erestor.

How did they come to be here?

This question is soon answered for they enter with Gimli and Elrond comes straight across to the bed.

“Well young prince, I am sorry indeed to see you in such straights and from what Gimli tells me because of my suggestion. I cannot express how sorry I am.”

I scowl at Gimli but he just shrugs and says, “All I did was send a note with Hwiniol saying we would likely be calling there. Erestor here spoke to Hwiniol asking how things were progressing with Dagnir and when he said the scoundrel had fled, it was sufficient to send him to Lord Elrond and they both decided to ride here to find out what was going on.”

While Gimli is explaining this Elrond is already examining me and exclaiming over the injuries. I try to tell him that it is nothing new to me to accept punishment, “I am, as you all three know, not the most academic of students.”

“You have a very fine brain” Ressor puts in, “and there is a great deal of difference between warranted chastisement and unwarranted cruelty!”

“Ai, yes indeed Legolas,” Elrond joins in, “how long have you been enduring this abuse?”

“And why?” Gimli and Ressor add together.

It is a lost cause but I try and explain why I hid what was going on, their expressions tell me that they are in turn exasperated, horrified and Lord Elrond even looks guilty and I realize he thinks he is to blame.

“You were only seeking to help me!” I hurry to reassure him.

“And look what has happened, because of my interferenc. How could I have been so easily deceived by him?”

Elrond is looking quite shaken and Erestor no less stricken.

“I assure you both I am fine, and I have learned a great deal, perhaps not to the standard that Dagnir expected but I am sure I will be better prepared for the next council.”

“But at what cost? I trusted him, I put my faith in him. He came highly recommended by some of the council themselves.”

“Aye and perhaps we should take the time to ask ourselves why that was.” Gimli growls, “What was it they hoped to achieve?”

“A good question Lord Gimli,” Elrond agrees, “and one we must attempt to answer. First let me just check our elfling over. I see that someone has done a good job on cleaning and bandaging the worst of the weal’s and cuts. I shall not interfere with that, but will leave a pain relieving draft which you will take tonight to help you sleep.”

He gives me his most ferocious healer’s frown and I meekly nod as he pulls up the covers, then he places his hand on mine, and tells me again how sorry he is that I have suffered so much abuse from someone who he had sent to me.

“You were not to know how seriously he would take his task Lord Elrond and I was grateful for your suggestion when you made it. I still am although I admit had I known I would have to learn a new or should I say old language I might not have been so anxious to do so.”

This piece of information diverts everyone’s attention from Dagnir’s conduct towards me as I hoped it would. For it is difficult for me to admit even to myself why I allowed Dagnir to do as he did and I am concerned that I have proved myself not only to be incapable of representing my father’s folk in the halls of power but also that there is a weakness within me that others perceive and exploit.

So I am happy to encourage my elders interest in my actual studies rather than my tutor, it may only be a temporary reprieve but I will take what I can get.

“What old language?” Ressor’s professional interest has been aroused.

“Master Dagnir said that I would be better received at the council if I could read and write and address them in what was their own language. It appears to be an archaic form of Sindarin mixed with a variety of Silvan dialects. I can decipher most of it but getting the intonation correct has proved to be more difficult. The books are on the desk I think, Gimli brought them in earlier when he came to tell me Dagnir had gone.”

Ressor and Elrond pick up a volume each and after studying them for a short while exchange looks, “Well,” Ressor admits, “I have not seen this particular form of language for over two ages. It is indeed an early form of written script but I have never seen or heard it in use. Why ever would Master Dagnir think you would need to master such a thing?”

“I can think of only one reason” Elrond tosses the book back on the desk in a fashion that had I done it I could expect a lecture on the care of ancient tomes but I suppose reflects his disgust at Dagnir’s betrayal of his trust in him.

“As can I” Gimli growls “I wish I had caught up with him before he fled.”

“I am glad you did not,” I tell him, “Mistress Glasiel would not have been at all happy if you had spilled blood on her floorboards.”

“Do not think you can distract me Lamb” Gimli tells me, although he is smiling, “I think we need to sit down and discuss this between ourselves and decide on what we are going to do about it.”

“You are right Gimli,” Elrond puts in; “I believe it would be well if we left Legolas to sleep while we go elsewhere to discuss what we should do next.”

Gimli nods and I can see myself being excluded from the upcoming talks when Ressor speaks up for me, saying that I should be at the center of the discussions as I am the one most immediately affected.

“He also needs rest.” Elrond objects.

“Then I suggest that we go and walk in the gardens and Gimli can show us how the building works is progressing, and then tonight we can all talk after dinner. That is if you are happy for us to stay overnight with you.”

“More than happy,” Gimli claps his hand and I know he is thinking that having Lord Elrond here will make it easier to ensure I rest as he thinks I should but I cannot bring myself to argue against him. Gimli does everything with my welfare in mind and I know that today has been as stressful for him as for me and I think the presence of the Imladrin lords will offer him as much succor as they will me.

So while I grumble at being put to bed for a nap on principle I am happy to think that Elrond and Erestor will be here to keep my beloved and worry wart guardian company while I sleep.


	9. Gimli's pov

I close the door behind Lord Elrond and Lord Erestor, having placed them in the capable hands of Mistress Glasiel to show them to the freshly made up guest chambers and having promised to meet them in the gardens shortly.

I cannot leave Legolas in good conscience until I know he will be all right to rest without me nearby. It is all I can do to prevent myself questioning him on exactly what was said and done to him to make him feel he must suffer such horrific abuse and to hide that fact from me. He certainly must realize that I would never have agreed to anyone misusing him in such a way even if he were being deliberately difficult or defiant, let alone for so little a reason as mispronouncing a word or making an error.

With all my heart I wish to seek revenge on that scoundrel Dagnir, paying him back tenfold for every weal and bruise on my elfling’s poor abused body. In all my long life I cannot recall a time when I longed for retribution against an enemy more than I did when I saw the full extent of the damage that was done to my lad, for there was hardly an inch of space between cuts, abrasions and bruises all the way from his shoulders to his knees. Only his face, neck, and hands remain unscathed for no doubt Dagnir was careful not to mark him in a place that would show and make me suspicious, though I now see that I should have been suspicious when the child began locking his door while dressing. I had wondered where this sudden shyness had come from, but had never stopped to consider such a travesty as this. Now as painful as it would be for me, I want to hear the full details of what Dagnir said to him and what instruments he used to inflict such insidious damage so I can know exactly how to seek proper retribution when I get the opportunity.

Yet I do not ask, for I know now is not the time. It would be too difficult and painful a subject for the lad to speak of it right now, and for the time being we need to focus on getting him well and deciding how this situation must be dealt with. Justice at the end of an axe blade seems right to me, but I know I must confer with the others and not act in rage and make the situation worse than it already is.

So instead of asking any uncomfortable questions, I just sit next to the bed and begin loosening his braids to help him get as comfortable as possible as he settles in for an afternoon of rest. Even though he has already spent the earlier part of the day sleeping, he still looks shattered in spite of his token protests that he was fine and did not need to be put to bed like an elfling in a nursery. Now he seems content enough to let me fuss over him, fluffing his pillows and tucking the covers in gently so as not to disturb his injuries.

“Gimli are you not meant to be showing our visitors the gardens and the building projects?” He asks. “I am not that bad off you know. After all I have already been…”

His voice trails off and I realize he is about to say he has been walking around battered and bruised for some time already. The only difference now is that we know of it.

“Do not try to minimize the seriousness of your hurts, Child, for I have already seen them and I know how severe they are. Just because you were able to go about your business injured does not mean you will be doing so now that I know of it. You need time to heal and you know as well as I do that plenty of sleep will speed the process.”

“I only meant I would be fine on my own. You do not need to sit with me.”

“I know it Lamb, but I will be happier if I know you are resting comfortably before I leave. If you wake up before I get back just have Mistress Glasiel or Mistress Elanor to send someone for me for I am quite certain they will be checking in on you periodically. Lord Elrond and Lord Erestor will not mind waiting.”

Knowing that continuing to argue with me is a pointless exercise he just nods and closes his eyes and it is only a matter of a few minutes before he is sleeping again.

I meet our guests in the gardens and show them around the place as planned, but my heart isn’t in it and neither of them are showing the usual enthusiasm either, for all of us are heartsick over what has taken place. Even though we have agreed to wait for Legolas before discussing things, no one seems to be thinking of anything else. After a while Elrond gives up the pretense of being interested in the gardens and apologizes to me once again for what has happened.

“I should never have trusted someone I did not know personally,” he tells me.

“You mustn’t blame yourself, my friend. Twas me who allowed this tragedy to occur right in my own home under my very nose. I should have paid better attention. If anyone is to blame its me.” I reply, wondering once again how such a thing could have slipped past me undetected.

“Placing blame will get us nowhere,” Erestor points out. “You didn’t realize it, Lord Gimli, because our dear elfling was doing his best to hide it from you, something that I am certain was part of Dagnir’s plan, though what threats he made or fears he placed in Legolas’ mind I have no idea.. If it weren’t for your keen diligence, no doubt the child would still be suffering at his hand.”

“He is right,” Elrond agrees, “We must look forward to what we need to do to help Legolas to recover from this and to decide what must be done about Dagnir.”

“Hmmph! Splitting his skull with a dwarven axe blade is what I would suggest!” I growl.

“While I agree that it would be quite satisfying to witness, I must point out its not the most diplomatic of measures.” Erestor chuckles. “We need to seek redemption through the proper channels or we are no better than Dagnir himself are we?”

I nod reluctantly, for I know it will only make matter worse to act on impulse.

“We must begin by filing a report to be read at the next council meeting so that the matter can be brought before the local council. An investigation must be made and if the council finds wrongdoing a recommendation must be made that the case be sent before the high council in Valinor. A committee of elders will be formed to present the case and if it is accepted as a valid complaint then a fresh committee made up of high council members will be formed to decide if a hearing is to be held at the current session or if a future date needs must be set. Based on the outcome of that decision it will then be decided if…”

“Oh bugger proper channels,” Elrond interrupts him. “Let us just get the axe and get this over with.”

So we are all laughing when it is time to return to the house to prepare for the evening meal. Legolas is permitted to join us in the small dining room, though Lord Elrond insists on loose fitting clothing and a soft upholstered chair from the sitting room being moved in and pulled up to the table in order to cushion his wounds as much as possible. He also asks that we keep our discussion brief this evening so that the lad can be given the prescribed pain draft and returned to his bed to sleep and heal. I worry that discussing these matters just before sleeping will not be the best for inducing restful sleep, but the two Elf lords keep their questioning of what happened to the minimum for now. More questions will need to be answered later, but for tonight we are keeping it brief and simple

We decide that Dagnir clearly had ulterior motives for his actions, though no one can fathom what they are. Jealousy perhaps? His use of the ancient tomes as instruction manuals seems to us to merely be a ploy to make things all but impossible to understand. Was that because he wished Legolas to fail at the council meeting or was he looking for a reason to use physical chastisement against him? And what motive would he have for wanting to hurt the lad? It is all very puzzling and my elfling seems more and more uncomfortable with the topic and the questions he is being asked.

I finally call a halt for the Lad’s sake for though he is trying his best to hide it I can see he is troubled by what is being said. We are really no closer to an answer when I follow the Lad back to his chambers and help him prepare for bed. The tea works quickly and I lean in to kiss his brow as he drifts off again.

I leave the door open between us as I return to my own chambers. I sleep fitfully, and at some point in the night I awaken to the feeling that I am being watched. Slowly opening one eye, I am surprised to see my elf perched on the end of my bed with his arms wrapped around knees that are pulled up under his chin. A light blanket is draped over his shoulders and with his white night clothing and pale hair he looks almost ghostly in the moonlight that streams through the window.

“What are you doing Lad? You should be sleeping. Is anything amiss?”

“I couldn’t sleep Elvellon…I needed to see you.” A soft hiccup on the end of that sentence tells me that he has been weeping, a sound that always breaks my heart but tonight is particularly distressing. Still I keep my voice steady and calm so as not to upset him further.

“Come then Lamb,” I say, beckoning him to my side and then when he arrives gathering him in my arms. “I am here. Tell edwen Adar what is wrong?”

“I am sorry,” he sobs.

“For what, Child?” I ask, though I have a feeling I know what he will say.

“ For making a mess of things again. For not trying hard enough. For failing you and everyone who was counting on me.”

“Oh Lamb…”

“It is my fault Gimli. Master Dagnir was right about me. I was doomed for failure from the start…”

I hold him closer and do my best to reassure him that it isn’t so, but no matter what I say I can see now that it is going to take more than a few encouraging words to undo the damage that has been done to my sweet lad. I know from experience it takes the heart much longer to heal than the body. 


	10. Legolas pov

 

Gimli of course offers me comfort as I knew he would. Even if I do not really deserve such care I need it which is why I came to sit on his bed, just to be close to him helped me to, and when he wakes and takes me in his arms I find myself weeping uncontrollably. I had not intended to do so, I wanted to be stronger, but I am weak …

Dagnir was correct, I am not fit for governance of the Silvan folk her in the Uttermost West. I wish it were otherwise but I have to face the hard facts. I am incapable of learning what is required. Ressor tried to make me feel better by saying the tomes that Dagnir was using were in what he considered to be a very specific local dialect rather than a ‘proper’ language, and Lord Elrond pointed out that most official governance is carried out in Quenya which I am very familiar with. But it does not really excuse my failure to master what Dagnir assured me was a simple language. A language that as someone with ‘some’ Silvan blood in my veins I should have been capable of not only reading and understanding but also of speaking with sufficient fluency that the council would expect of anyone who had intimated that he wished to be a representative of his people.  
Dagnir accused me of being too spineless for the task and he was right. Look at me now weeping in Gimli’s arms rather than standing up for myself.

Eventually however my crying slows and knowing that by remaining here I am preventing my dwarf from getting the rest he needs I pull out of his arms and ask his permission to seek the solace of the trees for the rest of the night. I see his face fall and I hurry to reassure him that it is just that I need to be outside. He immediately offers to come out with me, but I manage to persuade him to remain where he is by promising that I will return to him should I need to and he finally allows me to depart.

The trees greet me as I reach the end of the kitchen garden and I leap into the branches of an ancient elm and when I place my hands on the main trunk I feel the surge of recognition of knowing and welcoming their sapling into their midst. Ithil is still riding high and I breathe in the green and growing life around me and let my thoughts wander along their own pathways seeking respite from the cares of the day.

I do not know how long I listen to the song of the trees before a familiar note intrudes upon me and I refocus my eyes to see Erestor standing below me hands on hips as he stares up into the canopy. It is useless to try and avoid his frowning gaze even though I draw back in an attempt to do so.

“Legolas what are you doing out here?”

I could ask the same question but I doubt I would receive an answer so instead I drop down at his feet and shrug; not a response that Ressor will approve of but it expresses my feelings quite effectively.

“Does Gimli know where you are?”

Another question I might have anticipated

“He does and he gave me his permission to spend the night under the stars and to get some respite.”

Ressor runs a finger down the track of my tear stained cheek, “it does not seem to have worked.”

“The night is not yet spent” I counter.

“True. Come and sit with me then, for I too sought solace from the stars this night, Eärendil’s nightly journey across the sky always reassures me that however dark the present the dawn will come.”

He examines me closely before adding, “You are still troubled by Dagnir.”

It is not a question but a statement and I have never been able to dissemble with Erestor so I just lower my gaze and shrug again.

“I would prefer you to speak Thranduilion”

“Yes I am troubled,” I finally admit. “Master Dagnir has pointed out some very serious defects in my education.”

“Has he? I rather think he has pointed out some major defects in his own thinking. I spent sometime this evening perusing those books he was using and I have to tell you that my initial suspicions are correct. The language they are written in is a most obscure dialect that was used by a group of Silvan elves whose ancestry goes back into the mists of time. They kept themselves very much to themselves and when your grandfather and the other Sindar lords rode east they all but disappeared into the depths of the forests. The miracle is that you were able to read or decipher any of it, and why Dagnir felt that it was necessary to make use of it I do not know. What I do know is that there is no reason for you to feel lessened by the fact that you found it difficult to descry. I struggled with it as did Elrond.”

“But you would have mastered it.”

“Eventually, perhaps, but then I have no doubt that you would have done likewise given the opportunity and if Dagnir had not been breathing down your neck and threatening you as he did. Legolas,” he takes my arm, “what he did was wrong. You know that do you not?”

Part of me is desperate to accept Ressor’s reassurance, but deep down the voice of Dagnir resounds in my mind, reminding me of my failures and my inability to comprehend even the most basic negotiating techniques I shudder and Erestor strengthens his hold.

“Legolas, do you hear me?”

I shake my head trying to clear it and manage an unsteady, “Yes…but…”

“There are no buts, youngling. Dagnir has for whatever reason tried to destroy your confidence; you must not allow that to happen.”

“But what if he is right? What if I am incapable of caring for my father’s folk? I have already erred grievously …”

“Legolas you made a basic error, one that any of us could have done, given the apparent pernickety nature of the councilors. It was a minor incident that has been blown out of all proportion and one that does not warrant this amount of concern. You do believe me?”

I can see Ressor is worried so I summon up a smile and nod, “Of course I am sure with your help and Lord Elrond I can make a better impression at the next meeting and begin to put things right.”

“Good, good, now I think we ought to seek our beds, before Gimli comes looking for you, for I suspect our good dwarf will not rest until he sees you are safely indoors again.”

This time my smile is genuine and I allow myself to be guided inside and eventually back to my bedchamber where I see Gimli nodding by the fireplace.

“Gimli you should be asleep”

“Aye and as soon as ye seek your bed I will be,” he nods at Erestor who is standing in the doorway, “My thanks.”

“You are very welcome Gimli Elvellon. Goodnight Legolas, and remember what I said.”  
Ressor departs and I slip obediently between the covers and allow my eyes to lose focus, steadying my breathing and waiting until Gimli, believing me asleep, kisses my brow and retires to his own bed.

When his sonorous snores announce he sleeps, I get up again and sit in the window seat waiting for the dawn while my eyes go to the woods that run south and east of the house where elves have begun to make their homes. Both Sindar and Silvan elves have come to the Valley of the Elms from many parts of the island to make new lives for themselves and their families once they heard that a grandson of Oropher had sailed.   
They have offered me their loyalty and support. They look to me for guidance and to ensure that their needs and requirements are properly aired and given attention to in the corridors of power, and how have I repaid that trust? Dagnir said that many of them were considering returning to the deep forests in the north from whence they came. He told me that they were disappointed in me and that they doubted that I was capable of representing them there was even some talk he revealed of them believing that I preferred to consort with Noldor and Vanyar elves rather than my own kind.

What if that is true?

I feel a sick dread growing within me as Dagnir’s hurtful words burrow deeper and deeper into my soul. It as if he is still here with me, whispering into my ears, pointing out my errors, dismissing my abilities, sneering at my youth and inexperience. I ought to be capable of putting his comments out of my mind but I find I cannot.

Should I speak of it to Gimli…?

No, I do not want Gimli, Ressor, or Elrond worrying over me anymore than they already have. I will show them a positive face, and trust that I can successfully conquer my growing despair.

I feel as if my decision is well justified when we meet together after break of fast to begin work on my speech for the next council meeting.

Elrond has decreed that I will make my speech not in the archaic language suggested by Master Dagnir, but in Sindarin and the four of us sit together to decide upon the content.

“And remember Lamb, this time you will not be on your own, we will all be with you.”

While I appreciate the intent I point out that Dagnir told me that the council meeting is always held in closed session.

“They will get a taste of my axe if they try to keep me out” Gimli growls.

“Well said, Gimli” Erestor applauds “and I will be right beside you.”

Lord Elrond looks up from a book he is consulting and laughs softly, “while I would pay much to see you both storming the council chamber, there will be no need for such excess. There is nothing written within the constitution of the council that says that meetings should be closed. It is merely what has become accepted practice. What is more since I intend to ask Galadriel to also attend with us, for she more than any of us has knowledge of what is usual for such meetings having been born on Valinor and growing up in her Adar’s court. I do not think that the councilors in Avallónë or Kortirion will choose to argue with her presence and she may be able to read the true purpose behind Dagnir’s actions. I trust that is agreeable to you Legolas?”

“Yes, yes of course.” I reply not at all sure that it is, while Dagnir has fled he will undoubtedly be at the council meeting and the thought of having him watching and waiting for me to fail makes me quail.

“And should that son of an Orc put in an appearance you may leave him to me. You have more about you than you think Lamb, ye are your father’s son and a prince of the blood and have stood firm against a Balrog and the Nazgul and I have complete faith in your ability to make a success of this new venture here in the West.”

I know Gimli is speaking the truth; his faith in me is absolute how I wish I had the same measure of belief in myself!


	11. Chapter 11

I stand before the mirror in the guest chambers at New Imladris placing sapphire clasps that once belonged to my esteemed mother on the braids of my now very long and very white beard. As is typical of an elder of my race, I have not trimmed the length of my beard nor cut my hair since the day I turned two hundred years old, so that unbraided they both reach well below my waist. Long hair and a long voluminous beard is a sign of wisdom and stability to Durin’s folk, and while I am not sure I am quite as wise as some may believe, I do feel I have certainly earned both the color and the length!

My midnight blue velvet tunic is richly embroidered in gold with dwarfish runes around the high collar and cuffs and decorated with front closures designed to look like elm leaves. A wide embroidered navy silk band around the bottom makes the tunic reach to the tops of my soft leather boots, so that the black velvet trousers only show when I walk. A navy belt and a floor length navy cape complete the ensemble. I smile at my reflection, very grateful for all the hard work put into this by Mistress Glasiel, Mistress Elanor and my sweet Aerlinn, who took time out from her planting of the rust and gold chrysanthemums to embroider the edges of the cape with our chosen insignia of elm leaves.

She had flushed with pleasure when I thanked her for this special touch, for she, like the other young elves of our household, seems to bask in my approval. I am honored when they seek my guidance and counsel, and thrilled that they have accepted me as a close friend and indeed treat me almost like a beloved uncle. All of our staff have been wonderful, both the older and the more junior members, something that I am thankful for every day.

I am mostly pleased by their love of my elf and their desire to support him to the best of their ability on this important day.

The last three weeks, since Master Dagnir slunk out of our lives have been busy ones, with the staff and the two of us preparing for the council meeting. Lord Elrond and Lord Erestor spent several days with us after Dagnir’s departure, working with Legolas to boost his confidence and to help him prepare for the next council meeting, all of us trying our best to undo the damage that was done by that hateful, insidious cur.

The physical damage was mended soon enough-Lord Elrond made sure of that by demanding proper rest and proper daily treatment, but well I know the hurts of the mind and heart take much longer to heal. I do not know what was said to my lad to try to poison his mind with doubts and fears, for he has not yet spoken of it, but I do know that damage was done. How I long to put my hands around the bastard’s skinny neck!

Not that Legolas has complained or repined in any way. In fact on the surface he seems to be cheerfully determined and very self assured and optimistic about the upcoming meeting, but I am not for a moment fooled by this false bravado.

The truth of the matter is the child is terrified and worried. Whatever Dagnir said to him has struck him to the very core of his spirit and has deeply shaken his confidence and his belief in himself. I do not need to be told this to know it, for I know my elfling very well, and while he might have been able to fool me at one time, it is a very difficult thing to do now for I have become very accustomed to monitoring the state of his health both physical and emotional. Why he has not spoken of it, I am not sure for he knows very well I can see through his smokescreen of exuberant optimism. During the last years before we sailed, when I lived with my elf in Ithilien, I could tell at a glance if it was going to be a good day or a difficult day for him. I have not lost that ability and well he knows it.

It has been easy enough to see that all is not well yet, for I have several times had to awaken him from dark dreams, though he will not discuss them, even as he accepts the comfort of my arms. Many times I have found him sitting in his window seat watching the stars instead of sleeping and on several occasions he has made his way into my room at night just to be near me, but never to confide in me.

Still I have held my peace, for perhaps it is better for now not to pry into the painful details of what exactly was said and done to him, though the time will come I know when it will need to be addressed and spoken of. But today is not that time.

Two days ago we came to New Imladris for a few final briefings with Elrond and Erestor, staying in the suite of rooms that became so familiar to us in our first months here on the island. Hours have been spent in preparation for this day, but now the only thing left to do is dress and make the drive to the council chambers in Avallónë. It is nearly time to go.

Grabbing a small box that has been hidden away in my trunk, I cross through the shared common area to Legolas bedchamber to find him also staring intently into the mirror. I stand back and take in his reflection, admiring the perfectly tailored clothing that Mistress Glasiel deemed fitting for such a momentous occasion.

The fit is perfect and the design elegant in its simplicity-a crinkled silver silk tunic over black silk leggings and soft black doeskin boots. Dainty black silk embroidery edges the cuffs and high collar of the tunic that peaks out from behind the formal robe. Instead of the traditional floor length over robe, he wears a close fitting black silk brocade robe that is calf length in the back and has knee length panels in the front that show the lining of silver silk when he walks. Other than the embroidered cuffs and collar and the chrome tourmaline clasp in his main braid, there is little in the way of decoration giving him a lithe and graceful appearance that will no doubt make the older more staid elves in their formal attire look ostentations and overdone. The affect of his pale hair against the elegant black silk is quite honestly stunning, making him look more beautiful to me than even the Lady Galadriel herself. Of course to say so would only embarrass and fluster him so I say nothing of such things when I finally speak.

“You’ll do Laddie, but do quit tugging at that collar,” I tell him, “Mistress Glasiel worked hard to make you look perfect for the big day, but you’ll ruin the effect if ye keep fussing and fidgeting.”

For form’s sake he rolls his eyes at this admonition, but drops his hands to his side and turns to face me. He is clearly past pretending that all is well, for his eyes are wide and frightened and even from here I can see he is trembling.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Gimli.” He quavers.

I come forward and clasp him firmly by one shoulder. “Of course you can, Lamb. You’ve practiced and prepared and I will be with ye this time, as will Lord Elrond and Lord Erestor. Even my beautiful lady has agreed to come to support you. You’ll do just fine.”

Lowering his voice he finally speaks of his real fear of this day.

“What if Master Dagnir was right and I fail before everyone? What if he is there, watching me fall short?”

“Master Dagnir is not worthy of even speaking to someone of your quality. He is not fit for you to wipe your shoes on!” I cannot help growling “If he is there he had best stay out of my way is all I can say!”

Legolas laughs for real at my way of expressing my loyalty to him, but I can see he is not convinced, so I go on.

“Legolas, son of my heart, listen to me well,” I shake him slightly to garner his full attention. “You are the son of the great King of the Wood, a prince of the blood and one of the nine walkers! It is your father’s blood that pumps through those veins, lad, and you have proven worthy of that blood and that name time after time at an age when many young elves have just begun braiding their own hair or wiping their own nose!   
If that weren’t enough you also have a long line of courageous dwarven ancestors behind you.”

Here I remove from the box, the bejeweled heirloom belt I found among his things at home and brought with me for this occasion. It is a gift I gave him many years ago as a symbol of our special bond and the great love I have for him.   
I take it now and wrap it around his waist. He is so slim that it wraps twice around and clasps at the waist stationing the purple amethyst right in front-the stone for his birth week that proves to anyone in the know that he is officially considered dwarf kin and my heir besides.

I can see my words are having some effect, for he takes a deep breath as if reaching deep inside for the courage to face this day.

“Thank you, Elvellon,” he says, offering me his arm. “Shall we go?”

“Indeed we shall, Lamb, “I say putting a hand on his elbow. “Now put your shoulders back and raise your head high, Laddie, and remember who you are.”

XXXX  



	12. Legolas pov

 

With Gimli’s hand on my elbow I lead the way out of our chambers and then down to the main area of the house where Elrond and Erestor await us. I do not know if there has been a concerted effort to dress alike but their formal robes are also in shades of silver, dark blue and black, Elrond also wears the circlet given to him by Gil-galad to mark him as his herald at the time of the Alliance. Erestor’s raven black hair is held back by a silver and gold band presented to him by Estel when Erestor took leave of Middle Earth; both lords wear their swords, just as Gimli carries his great walking axe.

The lady Celebrian is also present and she smiles as I come towards her, “How handsome you look, Legolas, and so like your father.” She kisses my cheek and wishes me well, “I know you will make Thranduil proud” she whispers as I lead the way out of the house to where our horses await us.  
I blink as I see a formal guard is to accompany us, and that there are three standard bearers carrying the arms of Imladris, Eryn Lasgalen, and Aglarond.

“Is this necessary?” I question as I help Gimli to mount and ensure he is comfortable.

“Sometimes folk need a reminder of who they have in their midst.” Gimli takes up his reins, “and a little bit of flourishing never did any harm, come let us get this started.”

The ride to Avallónë is undertaken in silence; I spend my time mentally rehearsing my speech and doing my best to calm my increasingly jangling nerves.

Our cavalcade causes quite a stir as we enter the town Gimli brings his mount closer to me and I am grateful for his presence. Long years at my father’s court stand me in good stead so that although I am quaking inside I trust my outer persona radiates calm and control and I sit up straighter in the saddle and lift my chin and receive a quiet ‘good lad’ from Gimli as the horses clatter into the main square.

Some of the councilors who are making their own way to the hall stand open mouthed as we move past and ahead of me another cluster of councilors are muttering and gesticulating at Elrond and the others as we dismount and climb the steps.  
One of them comes forward and bows at Lord Elrond before telling him that unfortunately the council session is closed and that he cannot enter.

Elrond looks down his nose at him and then across at the other councilors and his voice although calm resonates across the whole square, “Indeed, yet there is nothing written in the constitution that says it must be so, so we are come to watch the proceedings.”

The councilor looks as if he rather be anywhere than under the eyes of the austere lord of New Imladris but he stands his ground “It … it has always been held in closed session my lord,”

Another councilor hisses at him “Tell him it is our tradition.”

“Then it is time it is changed” Gimli hefts his axe in his hand threateningly. “Ye can either do it peaceably or otherwise, personally I hope ye are daft enough to try and refuse us entry, it is too long since my axe sang in my hands.”

“I am sure there will be no need for violence … yet” Elrond lets that last word hang in the air, before he adds as if explaining to very dense children “As I said the constitution allows for spectators and interested parties to be present and we are very interested parties.”

I look across at the councilors recognizing some of them as being the ones who made me feel so unwelcome and so gauche at the last meeting. It seems they are no happier to see me this time than they were last and my stomach turns over.

I wonder how long the stand-off will continue or how long Gimli’s temper will last when another voice joins the conversation and I turn round to see that the Lady Galadriel has arrived with her own escort provided by the High King himself according to the livery they are wearing.  
“Good morning Elrond, is something amiss?”

I watch as the council members jerk backwards as Artansis daughter of Finarfin and Eärwen, wife of Celeborn of Doriath, the white lady, ruler of Lothlorien for more than an age allows one of her guard to help her down from her horse.

Elrond kneels to greet his mother in law but she raises him to his feet, kissing his cheeks.

She then turns her gaze on Erestor “Erestor, my dear councilor how are you,”  
Erestor gives her obeisance but she laughs and puts a hand on his arm, “my dear, dear friend, it is far too long since we met, and my beloved Lock bearer” Galadriel’s eyes twinkle as she greets Gimli, “and how grand you look Lord Gimli I trust you are as well as you look.”

Gimli blushes and bows over the hand offered to him, “I am well enough my lady.”

“That is well” Galadriel turns finally to me, “and my Greenleaf, how fares my favourite archer and nephew to my beloved husband?”

“Like Gimli I am well my lady although anxious to go into the council, but it seems that my companions are not welcome.”  
I can see the councilors shifting and muttering at my words but they positively shrink when Galadriel turns her agate gaze upon them.

“Not welcome … there must be some sort of misunderstanding for the High King has decreed that all council sessions are to be open for those who have an interest in what is to be discussed. Perhaps you would care to explain to the king why we are not welcome here, Captain Ithilion would you be kind enough to make a note of all here so that I do not forget anyone when I speak to my Atar?”

Suddenly the councilors are falling over themselves to convince the lady of the wood that it was indeed a simple misunderstanding and that we are all welcome to attend. In fact we are being urged to enter the council hall together, but Galadriel insists we wait until all of the others have gone inside before she signals she is ready to enter.

Gimli usually escorts his lady, but today he pushes me forward, and Galadriel smiles and rests her hand lightly on my proffered arm. Gimli follows us, his great axe thumping rhythmically on the stone floor and Elrond and Erestor bring up the rear. As we progress into the chamber many eyes turn to watch us, but despite this I am beginning to feel more at ease knowing that I have some here who wish me well when a voice catches my ear. I look across the room and see Dagnir standing on the other side of the hall he is with the councilors who tried to bar Elrond’s entry and my heart sinks as I realize that he and they are likely in league together.

Still I keep my face calm as I seat the Lady Galadriel at one side of the table where the council will sit. Elrond and Erestor take their places beside her, but Gimli follows me to the table placing my scrolls and books for me before stepping back and giving me a nod of approval, then he stalks round to the other side of the hall deliberately knocking into Dagnir with the heft of his axe as he passes him. I do not hear what is said between them but I can see Dagnir turns quite white as Gimli strolls away to take up his place behind Galadriel’s chair.

The leader of the council now enters the hall; Master Lonathion was not present at the last meeting having been away on Valinor. I immediately like the look of him for he seems far less stiff and caught up with the formality that pervaded the last council session there are several other councilors also present who were absent when I made my first appearance and they seem to be similarly inclined to be more friendly and approachable.

Master Lonathion calls the meeting to order and then welcomes those who have come to watch the proceedings; extending the hope that they will not find things too boring. Having looked around the table he suggests also that each councilor should introduce themselves and state who and what they represent so that those watching will be better informed. It is interesting to see that some of the council seems very unhappy about this but since the leader has requested their compliance they have little choice but to obey.

I will have to wait my turn to speak and so take the time to look more closely at the other councilors especially the ones who seemed to be familiar with and friends of Dagnir. Many of them it appears are Guild Masters or run businesses in the cities, and I cannot see immediately what they and Dagnir have in common. But it is not long before the issue becomes clearer, they all of them seem to hold themselves in high self-esteem and to look down on anyone who might be what they disparagingly call ‘new-comers’.

Looking now with more educated eyes it is obvious that there are at least two factions present, the old guard who seemed to wish everything to remain as it was in the last three ages and those who may have come to the island from Arda and whose experiences were very different to those who had never left Aman.

Dagnir I notice has taken a seat which places him as far away from Gimli as possible but in a position that gives him a clear view of where I am sitting. He offers me a thin smile and I am hard pressed not to shudder as I see him pick up a thin ruler that I know all too well. Dagnir runs his hand across the length of it as he listens to one of the speakers talking of trading agreements. There is nothing in Dagnir’s movements to suggest to anyone else there that he is subtly reminding me of his power and I determinedly look away, but my eyes stray back time and time again and I feel the confidence that Gimli. Erestor and Elrond had instilled in me ebbing away.   
I do not understand what power Dagnir possesses over me, it is not that I have not long been accustomed to physical chastisement, both as a child and as a warrior, but I have never felt as diminished by it as his actions have achieved. Somehow he manages to make me question myself and my ability to succeed, no matter how hard I try to ignore it, the whisperings within my mind grow, reminding me of my failings, and undermining what little self-esteem I still possess.

By the time the meeting reaches the point where I am to make my petition for another opportunity to plead for the elves whose future homes I put in jeopardy my hands are trembling and I wonder if I will have the strength to actually bring myself to my feet and begin to speak.

“Prince Legolas you wished to address the meeting …”

I blink and realize that everyone is looking at me, and several of Dagnir’s cronies are smirking and exchanging significant looks one with the other.

I hear Gimli clear his throat and they turn and look in his direction, he is now leaning on his axe and looking as ferocious as he did at Helms Deep, but when he glances at me, he smiles and nods encouragingly and I get to my feet. As I do I feel a change come over me. Almost as if I am being wrapped in love and support, not only from my beloved dwarf, or Elrond and Erestor, or even from Lady Galadriel, there is an unseen presence a warmth, a feeling the faintest of smells of Old Toby I do not fully understand save that it succors me and offers me strength and purpose.

Gimli’s words are repeated silently in my ears ‘put your shoulders back and raise your head high, Laddie, and remember who you are.’ And now I do remember, I am the son of Thranduil, and adopted son of one of the greatest of dwarf lords I will not shame either of my father’s by failing now.  
Strength flows back into my legs, I straighten and lift my head.

  
“Master Lonathion, members of the council I thank you for granting me this opportunity to speak. Some of you here are very aware that at the last meeting I was not fully cognizant of how important following proper procedures and keeping to your traditions is. Consequently I was unable to persuade you that the land that was under discussion should be handed in perpetuity to the elves that have made their homes in that area.   
I would like to try again if I may …  
I believe your indulgence on this matter will not be wasted for you will be pleased to know that I have been coached in the last month on how I should properly conduct myself in such meetings as this by someone who has assured me he that he knows exactly how I should go on.”

Some of the council look slightly mystified by my words, others those who seem to be allies of Dagnir look uncomfortable as if they are not sure what it is I am about to say. I am glad that I can make them uneasy even if only for a few moments. But I wish to concentrate fully on what is needed so I let the hurt and humiliation go for now and merely add that thanks to Master Dagnir I now have a much better understanding of the politics and diplomatic maneuverings in the halls of power, which makes several of the councilors laugh,. I am emboldened by this to add for good measure, “I have learned a great deal more from Master Dagnir as well, that I will happily share with you at some other time but for now there are matters of far more importance to deal with.”

I have practiced my speech and I know it well, it has been written with great care and the words have a resonance and power to them for which I thank Lord Elrond whose mastery of language is second to none. I also thank Erestor who spent many hours researching the council’s own records of prior agreements which could be seen as being pertinent to my case and which support my proposals.   
As I speak, I take care to catch the eyes of each of the council members in turn, even albeit fleetingly the eyes of Dagnir as he sits watching me. I see the flare of true hatred in his face but then it is gone and he frowns even as someone next to him comments on what an excellent job he has done in teaching me how to go on.

I even manage to bring my speech to an end using some of the archaic language that Dagnir said was necessary if I was to be seen to be truly determined to conduct myself properly, and I see as I speak that many there have little understanding of my words. Gimli had wagered it would be the case and once again he has proved to be right. I bow and sit down and am heartened when several of the council murmurs ‘well done’ at me, but my eyes go to Gimli for confirmation that I have done well and his beaming countenance is like a balm to my soul.

Master Lonathion thanks me and calls for a short break, inviting his honored guests to partake of refreshments with him and also signaling for me to join them, “I would be interested in hearing more of these lessons you have been indulging in if you would; you have been very well schooled.”

“Yes,” I respond, “Very well-schooled indeed." In ways I will never speak of save with my friends and family I add silently as I offer my arm once more to Lady Galadriel. As we move down the hall we pass close by to a knot of councilors who are talking amongst themselves in the center is Dagnir.  
Galadriel pauses and waits until they all fall silent, “Master Dagnir,” her voice is cool. “It is you we have to thank I believe for Prince Legolas’ presentation today,” she smiles, “how pleased you must be to see your pupil respond so heroically to your teaching. I will be sure to let my Atar know who it is we have to look to for that change and of those who offered you their support as well of course.” Her gaze encompasses all present, in a way that leaves them in no doubt that they will be remembered, “Come Thranduilion, my lock bearer and I are in need of refreshment as I am sure you must be after your speech.”  
And we move on leaving Dagnir to stare after us until he is knocked almost off his feet as Gimli and Erestor both seem to fall into him at the same moment.

 


	13. Gimli's pov

In every person’s life there are moments when he finds himself in a place or situation he never expected to be; for me this is one of those moments. Imagine one of Durin’s folk, a son of Aulë, not only residing in the undying lands, but also sitting in on a council meeting of elves, some of whom have seen two ages pass and more. It is mind boggling in some ways, and yet you never know where life will take you, and mine has taken me to some interesting places indeed.

To be perfectly honest, such things do not interest me much. Of course as the Lord of Aglarond, I have sat in on more than my share of such dealings, but I had no intention on getting involved in them here, for my days of being involved in political affairs have passed. I am a temporary resident in the Valley of the Elms, as the time I have left here is fleetingly short, at least it will seem so to the elves of this realm. I am only here to help Legolas establish himself and to help guide his steps until he is able to manage on his own and my reason for being here today is for just that purpose. I came to offer moral support and encouragement to my elfling at a time when he clearly needs it. However, I have found it far more educational that I would have expected it to be.

The council leader seems a decent enough fellow, which I hope is a good sign. He is the one who had no objections to spectators listening in on the proceedings and has in fact asked each council member to say his name and his reason for being there to make it more understandable to those who are observing. As the council members introduce themselves it becomes clear that Dagnir has his allies and associates who seem to all own businesses in the city and who obviously feel themselves to be far superior to their fellow councilors.

Dagnir himself, I’ve noticed has taken a seat as far from me as possible, which is probably well considering the fury that rose up in me when I saw his sneering face. I cannot describe the amount of self control it took not to split his skull with my axe and be done with it. But I dug deep inside and settled on bumping into him with the heft of my axe and hissing that he should walk a wide circle around my elf if he knew what was good for him, for if he so much as looked at him crossways he would be answering to me for it.

Now as the councilors begin to discuss the topics on the agenda, I spend my time closely watching the old weasel. He seems absorbed in listening to the speaker, never making eye contact with me or looking at Legolas, but he picks up a narrow ruler and begins to absently run a hand over it and I notice my elfling glancing at him occasionally and seeming to become more and more uneasy.

With a sudden clarity, I realize that there is a dark significance to his actions and it is all I can do not to leap to my feet! What sort of insufferable worm would use his power to torment a blameless, well-meaning lad like my Legolas? After all, in spite of his titles and life experiences, and in spite of how he would feel about being reminded of it, he is still, when all is said and done, only an elfling. Are not elves supposed to cherish their own children, especially ones who have made such sacrifices as my particular elfling? And yet this “respected elder” has not only physically assaulted my elf and plagued his mind with doubts, he also continues to play control games with him even now. How my hand itches to give him a taste of his own medicine!

Yet it would not help Legolas’ cause here today if I were to leap across the table and run a wooden ruler through the vile son of an orc’s heart. So instead I focus all my energy on sending my strength and support to my lad and hope with all my heart that he can channel it and make an impression that will be talked about for months to come by all in attendance here.

When his name is finally called, he does catch my eye, and I offer him a smile that I hope is encouraging, and shows my great pride in him and my belief in his ability to succeed, even in this trying situation.

There is a quiet triumph in his eloquent and dignified speech and I am immeasurably pleased when several of the council members’ faces soften as he goes on to explain his reason for addressing them. Some seem confused as to why his request was denied the last time and no doubt they are impressed at his obvious concern and care for those who might lose their future homes because of the council’s earlier decision. Dagnir’s particular friend’s in turn appear to be uncomfortable or irritated and Dagnir seems especially annoyed when several members congratulate him on the fine job he has done of teaching Legolas how to approach the council.

Several surprised and decidedly amused glances are exchanged when Legolas ends his speech using the ancient language that Master Dagnir seemed to think so necessary for him to master and then I see nods of approval all around. I add my own nod, and a wink for good measure when my elf looks at me for assurance that he has done well and then I look over at Dagnir whose knuckles have turned white from gripping the ruler that is still in his fist. In spite of his austere features, I can see he is barely reining in his hatred and rage and wonder again what he can possibly have against an innocent youngster who he had never met before the last council meeting.

After that a break is called and the crowd invited to partake of some refreshments before any more discussion or voting takes place. Legolas look as poised and as confident as I have ever seen him as he offers his arm to Lady Galadriel and escorts her through the corridor so that no one would ever guess the abuse and self doubt he has suffered over the last several weeks. I am wickedly pleased to see that Dagnir looks less assured than he did before and I cannot help ‘accidentally’ stumbling into him and almost knocking him off his feet at the same time that Lord Erestor has the same thought.

As I pretend to steady him I manage to lift the ruler that I saw him place in the deep pocket of his formal robe when he stood up from the table. I have never stolen anything in my entire life, but I do not feel a bit guilty over it, especially when I see Erestor’s eyes twinkling at me, and Lord Elrond’s lip twitch as if he would like to smile. Perhaps it is a childish action, but Dagnir will no longer be using his subtle techniques to try to intimidate my elfling if I have anything to do with it. I slip the thing into my own pocket and then make my way through the corridor with the others.

The room we are led to is set up with tables of refreshments and chairs and benches strewn about. Master Lonathion stands near an oversized fireplace where a cheery fire adds life and warmth to the otherwise rather severe looking room. Right away he calls Legolas to him and congratulates him again on making such a well thought out appeal to the council.

“Extraordinarily well done Prince Legolas, especially considering you have been on the island only a very few years. Most take several decades to learn to show that level of diplomatic skill.”

“Thank you, Master Lonathion,” he answers, “after my unforgivable blunders last time, I felt it important to learn the correct procedures and traditions in order not to make the same mistakes again.

“I can hardly believe you had done anything so unforgivable, for you could not be expected to know how things work on your first meeting, though I must say you have studied to some purpose. Your delivery was all but flawless. You must tell me about your studies.”

Legolas answers as vaguely as possible, and when Master Lonathion begins to pry a bit deeper, the lad spots me and calls me to his side, no doubt seeing this as a way of distracting the conversation to another topic.

He introduces me to master Lonathion as his friend and guardian, something that surprises me a bit, for there have been times when he has not wished others to know that he is still considered young enough to be in need of a guardian, though I suppose that bit of deception only worked among mortals. The elves here, of course, will be able to guess his approximate age and will not find it strange that he is not yet of age, though I am quite sure most would not have expected him to be under the care of a dwarf. Master Lonathion’s features just barely register surprise as he bows to greet me.

“Your charge has done a fine job, Lord Gimli,” Lonathion says after Legolas excuses himself to bring refreshments to Lady Galadriel. “You must be very proud.”

“Indeed, I am, “ I admit, “though his actions today had very little to do with me. Lord Elrond and Lord Erestor are the ones who deserve the credit for that. They have prepared the lad very well.”

“And what of Master Dagnir? That last bit done in the ancient Silvan dialect was quite impressive, though I must admit to having understood very little of it personally.”

I grit my teeth to keep from saying what I think of Dagnir and his ‘tutoring’. I knew very well that speaking in that ancient tongue was unnecessary!   
Out of the corner of my eye I can see that Dagnir has placed himself close enough to hear my conversation with the council leader and something makes me want to make the elf squirm.

“I fear it was my fault that Prince Legolas was unable to do the entire speech in the language. He picked it up surprisingly quickly as I understand it, but three weeks was not quite enough time for him to master it entirely. It is because of me that Master Dagnir did not stay as long as we had originally intended.”

“Really?” Lonathion’s interested look invites me to continue.

“Aye, I am afraid I had to make the unfortunate decision to send him away.”

Legolas clearly has been listening to my conversation with Master Lonathion as well, for he is beside me again. He says nothing at all but simply lays a hand on my shoulder as if he is afraid I will say more than he is comfortable with. I reach up to pat his hand to reassure him that there is nothing to fear. I only wish to worry Master Dagnir who has become decidedly pale by now.

“Oh what a shame,” Master Lonathion says, eyeing Dagnir with a slight frown, “Do you mind if I ask the reason why?”

  
“Let’s just say I did not agree with his methods of instruction.” I say, sending a glare in Dagnir’s direction.

With that I remove the pilfered ruler from my pocket and casually toss it into the fire causing Master Lonathion to look thoughtful and Legolas to catch my eye in amazement. Yet it is Dagnir’s expression I enjoy the most, for just for the briefest moment I am able to read raw terror in his eyes as the bit of wood is devoured by the flame. He now understands that I am onto his scheme.


	14. Legolas pov

I watch with amazement as Gimli pulls a ruler from his pocket and tosses it into the fire. For a moment I do not realize the full implications behind his actions; then as I look at the smoldering wood I recognise that it is the one that Dagnir was holding earlier, the ruler that has brought me so much pain and not just physical pain at that. Somehow- and I still am unsure as to how he managed it- Dagnir has succeeded in undermining my confidence in myself. One look from him and he can cause me to lose composure to doubt myself and my abilities. I still cannot believe that he had sufficient mastery over me as to cause me to hide what he was doing to me. I am no elfling I have faced many dangers and never been as diminished as I was by Dagnir. He achieved much with his poisonous words and his hard hand.

To see the ruler burn brings me some small sense of relief of being set free from a nightmare I was unable to wake from on my own.  
I look at my guardian who is smiling in a very satisfied fashion as the wood is devoured by the flames. How Gimli came to acquire it I do not know for Dagnir had it with him in the meeting but now it flares bright orange and then as Gimli’s boot slams into it, it shatters and blackens before turning to grey ash.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” Gimli growls at it

Master Lonathion is looking rather perplexed but before he has an opportunity to ask further questions, we are interrupted by the sounding of a bell summoning us back to the Council Chamber for the vote.

I hesitate, wondering if I have been able to do enough to persuade the council to agree to overturn the last meetings decision and to cede the land to the families I was asked to represent. But Gimli is already moving me forwards, Elrond and Erestor are smiling at me and looking confident while the Lady Galadriel is allowing Master Lonathion to escort her to her seat actually turns and winks at me making Gimli chuckle.

I seat myself and the council is called to order and the vote taken, each council member standing to give their response, and while a good few, those that seem to be friends and allies of Dagnir, vote against making the change far more vote in my favor, it is soon clear that we have won the day.

I look immediately towards where Gimli and the others are sitting and see the delight in their faces as the council leader pronounces the verdict. I find I am shaking, quite overcome and almost faint, the relief is almost overpowering. Perhaps I have not done so badly by my father’s people after all. Mayhap there is a chance that I will now be able to represent them in a fashion that will make them and my two father’s proud of me. I am so grateful for all the support I have been offered and the faith Elrond, Erestor and Lady Galadriel have shown in me. But my greatest thanks have to go to my beloved dwarf who is beaming at me with pride showing clear in his dark eyes.

Master Lonathion calls for quiet and then thanks all of us present for our hard work and dedication. He praises me for my efforts and I find myself blushing and demurring saying instead that my success owes much to the efforts of others.

“Indeed Prince Legolas,” he nods and smiles, “it is becoming of you to wish to share your success with those who have helped you prepare for today.”

Lonathion bows in turn to the Lady of New Lothlorien, the Lord of New Imladris, his chief advisor and my dwarf, and then and I wonder if this is a piece of mischief or if he did not fully understand what Gimli said to him earlier, “and I am sure all here in the council will wish to acknowledge the efforts put in by one of our own councilors as well. Do stand and receive our thanks Master Dagnir, without you this vote would never have been gotten through.”

Lonathion’s smile is such that I no longer doubt that he has not understood at least some of what has happened and that he is not at all impressed by it.

Dagnir has no choice but to stand and make a bow as the councilors applaud him politely. It is amusing to see the expressions on the faces of those who had looked to him to ensure that I failed here today; there is both resentment and anger. But my desire to smile fades when I catch a glimpse of Dagnir’s own face for he is staring at Gimli with revulsion in his eyes and when he catches me watching, he turns the full force of that loathing on me. I feel bile rise in my throat. What is that I have done to make him hate me so much?

Then he is surrounded by others, as am I, and there is cheerful chatter all around, and folk congratulating me, and the moment is gone. I put such thoughts out of my mind and allow myself to be led away to share a celebratory meal with my friends and Dagnir is forgotten, for now at least.


	15. Epilogue

  
Dagnir turned his horse away from the city of Avallónë, the complaints from his so called friends on the council still ringing in his ears.

How could it be viewed as his fault that Lonathion had returned in time to chair the meeting and guessed what had been happening while he was away in Valinor? He, Dagnir, had done all he could to ensure that Thranduil’s whelp failed as spectacularly on his second visit to the council as he had on his first and it had worked too or it would have done so had it not been for the interference of that damnable Naugrim and the half breed Elrond Eärendilion.

Thranduil’s son had been easily duped. His anxiety and desire to do his best for those elves that had come to him to represent them had allowed Dagnir to manipulate and influence him, to work on undermining his confidence of encouraging him to question his abilities.

Dagnir allowed a cold thin smile to appear on his face as he recalled how the prince had even submitted to being ‘properly corrected’ when Dagnir had threatened to leave him because he was not working sufficiently hard enough. It was odd to think that it was Legolas’ determination to do well that proved to be his weak point and which allowed Dagnir to exploit him …

He had done what he set out to do, and while the outcomes for the council were not what they might have wanted, Dagnir had at least the satisfaction of knowing that he had managed to torment the Sindar princeling, to such an extent as to make him doubt himself and that was a start. Now he needed to poison others minds against him by pointing out Thranduil’s brat’s reliance on Noldor support and worse on being a friend of mortal kind and a dwarf!

The son of Gloin was a thorn in his side and someone who would need watching. He had underestimated him; he would not do so again. How dare the Naugrim threaten him and throw his ruler in the fire! Dagnir sneered. Well he would regret that and his ‘lamb’ would suffer for it.

It was not for him that he was doing this, no; it was the least he could do for those of the Silvan community that he led, they had suffered enough under the rule of the Sindar Lord Oropher and his son. He would not let them be duped by the silver tongue or a sweet face for a second time. Legolas Thranduilion had not heard the last of Dagnir Englorion. He would gain revenge for the loss of his child one way or another …

This was a battle he did not intend to lose…

 


End file.
